Safeguard
by One-Of-A-Kind33
Summary: Lucy doesn't want to be here. She doesn't want to be in Beacon Hills, she doesn't want to be living with the McCalls, and she doesn't want to be attending public school. All she wants is to finish her freshman year without any more incidents and maybe for Scott and Stiles to learn how to whisper. But this is Beacon Hills; something is bound to happen. How deep do Lucy's roots go?
1. Chapter 1: Anywhere But Here

**I'm a terrible, terrible person. But I really don't care at this moment.**

 **No, this is not the next Dark Light chapter for those that read my YJ story.**  
 **It also isn't the Original Twin chapter I've been promising you Vampire Diaries fans for almost a year (halfway there, I promise. Just wait 'til exams are over.)**  
 **And it definitely isn't the Saviour Angel update that I owe you after that lovely little bomb I dropped.**

 **I'm so sorry. Really, truly I am. But I watched Season 4 (finally) and was inspired by that lovely little explosive we call Liam and I decided that he needed some more love. Particularly a pretty, equally troubled girlfriend. And then it just kept flowing. Then I watched the mtv season 2 marathon and I was even more determined to keep writing.  
The Liam/OC is slowburn and only really a reason for me to have created a character. There will be plot first. **

**This is going to be a good time for me. You guys, not so much.**  
 **It starts after Season 4 and will probably not include Season 5 because I've seen the promo and I'm worried. I'm scared shitless what they're going to make our babies go through again. And no Derek. Its unimaginable. I have a theory though...**

 **Okay, enough rambling.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf because if I did Stalia would be obsolete by now because no matter how cute they are, I'm Stydia for life. Oh, and Derek would never, ever leave. Or put a shirt on.**

 **Read. Review. Enjoy.**

* * *

Lucy had been staring out the car window for over an hour. Her headphones were firmly stuck in her ears, the music cranked as loud as she could handle. Her book was sitting open in her lap, though she hadn't read a single word since they'd pulled out of the Academy's parking lot. She was in silent protest, determined to ignore the man in the driver's seat for as long as possible.

She knew he was unsure of what to do, unsure of how to handle a surly teenager that had just been kicked out of _another_ boarding school. Lucy also knew that Agent Raf McCall had no idea how to handle a girl, let alone a teenaged one, which was why she had spent most of the past three and a half years in boarding schools and summer programs far away from her legal guardian.

He was tapping the steering wheel now, probably trying to figure out a way of getting her attention without having to make any awkward physical contact. Unbeknownst to him, Lucy had spent most of the drive scrutinizing him. He was handsome, she guessed, in a federal agent-older guy way, with his grey-free hair and large dark eyes. Nothing like her own dad, whose blonde hair had been peppered with grey and whose green eyes had always been squinting from refusing to buy glasses, something her mom had always chastised him for. Lucy ignored the soft pull in her gut that always accompanied thoughts of her parents. Instead she took pity on her driver and pulled a headphone out of her ear. He took this as a sign of open communication.

"So, um, there are a few things I want to go over before we arrive and we're getting pretty close." He glanced over at her to make sure she was actually listening before he continued, "I'm not going to lie or sugar coat it; things are going to be weird for you. They're going to be weird for all of us, but Melissa is doing us both a huge favour by letting you move in with her and Scott." Lucy let out a snort.

"Right, because we're totally not paying off half of her debt and making it so she can keep her house or anything."

"Which you're not going to bring up," he warned sternly before smiling a little, "Melissa is a good person. She would have taken you in even without the money."

"If she's such a good person then why are you two divorced?" prodded Lucy.

"That's not important." He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "What's important, is that this is another chance, okay Luce? This is a chance for a normal high school experience."

"Boarding school is a normal high school experience!" Lucy huffed. "I don't see why you don't just ship me off to another one of those. I'm sure we could find a few that wants to _"_ straighten me out _"_ or any of that other crap."

"Because I owe it to your parents to try harder than I've been trying for the past four years. Maybe it's my fault why you've been acting out, maybe I haven't taken enough interest or initiative. At the time, it's what was best. But that was seven schools ago, Luce. Seven. So we're going to take it easy for awhile and try public school." He was pleading with her, trying to make her understand that this was what was best for her, but Lucy wasn't going down that easy.

"But why in Beacon Hills?" she whined, "There are plenty of public schools in San Francisco. And might I remind you that you were investigating murders here. Murders, with an _S_. As in plural, meaning more than one murder. You were hunting serial killers and assassins and a lot of freaky stuff has happened here lately. I don't see how that's _taking it easy_."

"I'm trying to patch things up with Scott, Lucy. I need to be in Beacon Hills." His voice was tired but final. The topic was no longer open for discussion. Lucy slumped down in her seat.

"Fine. But do I really have to live with them?"

"I have to go back and forth from the field office a lot and we both know I suck at cooking. This is a chance at stability, Lucy. Please just let it go. It's already been decided."

"Decided without my opinion. I thought you were going to let _me_ decide what's best for myself?" she challenged. She knew what was good for her, and it wasn't moving in with his son and ex-wife.

"I'm trying, Lucy. I'm trying to fix things between me and Scott, and me and Melissa, and me and you. Give me this chance." His hands tightened determinedly on the steering wheel. "Give me two months. If you are absolutely miserable by the time that's over, we'll find another school, okay?"

"Fine." She grumbled, shoving the headphone back into her ear and turning up the volume to tune him out.

Lucy knew he was trying. He was trying more than he had since the first little while after her parents died. She just didn't know how long it would last. She liked Agent Raf, she really did, but that was who he was. He was Agent Raf— not Raf or Uncle Raf— but Agent Raf, her dad's former FBI partner. He was a good guy and a good agent, but his ability to be a caretaker was a little lacking. Which had never bothered her before. He signed papers and she sent him a check-up text once a week. All was well.

Lucy went back to staring out the window, not bothering to keep up the charade of reading her book, and watched as the trees blended into a general blur of green. It was the second week of April, a completely disastrous time to be switching schools. Apparently Carlton Academy couldn't allow property-destroying delinquents to finish the semester, even with only a month and half left. Not that Lucy could stand being there any longer. If she'd been able to, she'd still be stuck behind ivy-covered walls, planning her expulsion for sometime closer to June. Then they would've been forced to let her finish the year.

She hadn't been back to Beacon Hills since she was 12. She had hated that trip. She'd been forced to tag along with Scott and his annoying best friend, Stiles, while Melissa and Agent Raf had an "adult conversation" about who knows what. Then they'd all sat through an awkward dinner of Italian takeout and Stiles passive-aggressively insulting Agent Raf while Scott barely looked up from his plate and Melissa repeatedly told Stiles to cut it out. Lucy had sat silently and watched it all enfold before her.

She wasn't looking forward to this little experiment given that it had the extreme likelihood of blowing up in all their faces. She was even more apprehensive about the whole thing since Agent Raf had warned her about Scott and his friends' constant camping trips, failing grades (though she had a feeling he hadn't meant to mention that), and tendencies to be in the wrong places at the wrong times. She didn't know if they were drug runners or just out of control teenagers, but neither of those seemed like viable options for her future.

Lucy had a plan, and it didn't really involve making friends at all. Friends made it harder to leave. Besides, it was halfway through the second semester. It was too late for her to join most school clubs or to try out for cross-country. Volleyball season wouldn't start until the next school year, and she would hopefully be gone by then. Hopefully.

Her plan was foolproof. She was going to be the perfect child for the next couple of months, starting with being a wonderful houseguest for Melissa and finishing with acing her classes and her finals. Then maybe she could convince Agent Raf that she was through with her "phase" and he would send her to that school for academically gifted kids in upstate New York. She may have gotten herself expelled from all the good schools in California but New York State had a lot of boarding schools and a lot of options. Maybe there she could find a school nurse that would give her something stronger than melatonin without parental permission. Melatonin had stopped working by the third school. It had worked even less when she stopped taking her pills.

Lucy didn't need Agent Raf worrying about her insomnia. They were just dumb nightmares that didn't even make sense. If he got involved then she would have to go back to the doctors and shrinks who pretended to care but only really wanted a topic for their research papers. She didn't need a sympathetic ear or someone to trace the root of her disturbing dreams. She didn't need someone asking her about how her prescriptions were or how often she was taking them. She didn't _need_ that. She didn't _want_ that. All she wanted was a good night's sleep and a new school, preferably one with uniforms and a 20-second walk from her dorm to her first class. To bad she was getting Beacon Hills instead.

* * *

"But why does she have to live with you?" whined Stiles. He was currently following behind Melissa as she moved around the kitchen preparing dinner, trying to convince her that this was a bad idea. It didn't help that Melissa was already second-guessing her decision. Scott was sitting at the kitchen table with Liam and Kira, discussing the next lacrosse game. It was close to the full moon and against a rough team. They needed to make a plan to keep Liam in control and in the game. However, Scott interjected when he heard Stiles' complaint.

"Because Dad asked her to and she's too nice to tell him no."

"Apparently she can't say no to any strays that come waltzing her way," mumbled Stiles, "First Isaac and his stupid scarf, and now this, this _girl_." His face contorted in distaste. Melissa breezed past him to the fridge and grabbed a pre-made salad.

"What can I say, Stiles," she remarked as she pulled a bowl from the cupboard, "I've always wanted a daughter. Instead I got a pack of wolves, assorted supernaturals and you."

"She is not a girl," grumbled Stiles, crossing his arms over his chest and causing his plaid shirt to stick out at an odd angle. "She's a demon."

"Then she'll fit right in," joked Kira from the table. Liam smiled along with her.

"No." Everyone, minus Melissa, turned to stare at Scott, startled. His voice had been hard and flat.

"Scott?" asked Stiles.

"Mom and I talked about this. She doesn't need to be caught up in all this. She doesn't know about werewolves or kanimas or supernatural deadpools, and we aren't going to tell her." His mom nodded in agreement.

"This is her chance to be normal. I agreed to take her in because I was friends with her parents. That poor kid doesn't need to know about all of _this_ ," she finished, gesturing to the two werewolves and the kitsune.

"That poor kid decided my backpack would be a good place to empty an entire bottle of glue after I told her she couldn't play with my transformers. That type of contemplative, vengeful evil doesn't go away, it gets worse."

"She was a four year old girl who wanted to play with the big kids, Stiles," sighed Melissa. She remembered that day, how smug the little girl had looked when Stiles came to show them what she'd done.

"She was a demon with pigtails and butterfly hair clips."

"I doubt she'll be dumping glue in your backpack anymore, Stiles," consoled Scott. "Besides, she's two years younger than us and I have super strength. I think we can take her." Stiles ignored his friend and whirled around to face Liam. He narrowed his eyes at the younger boy.

"No."

"What do you mean _no_?" asked Liam. He leaned away slightly, blue eyes wide with confusion.

"No, you cannot date her. In fact, no dating, no looking, even no thinking about her. She's no good, I know it. I mean, how many school has she gotten kicked out of? Seven? In three years? That's excessive and ridiculous." Stiles was staring at the younger boy, studying him like he was a piece of evidence to be taped to his board.

"Maybe they sucked," argued Liam.

"You mean, maybe she had a coach that benched her for the entire season so then she destroyed his car?" said Stiles. Liam shrank back, the hurt flashing across his face briefly before it settled into a stony glare.

"That was mean and uncalled for," pointed out Kira. She stood and grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. "Come on, Liam, I'll drive you home. My mom said I had to be back by dinner anyway." She looked at Scott. "See you tomorrow before class?" He nodded.

Kira kissed him on the cheek as she walked past. The two had settled into a more comfortable relationship since the Mexico fiasco. He knew she was leaving mostly to get away from Stiles' pointless ranting and to help Liam escape. Liam spared a hostile glance at Stiles before slinking out after Kira, but not before Scott patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. The younger boy relaxed slightly, shifting from defensive and angry to disgruntled.

The remaining three waited in silence until the sound of Kira's car faded away. Melissa had pulled the chicken skewers from the oven and set the tray on the counter. Scott looked pointedly at his friend as Stiles slid into the chair across from him. "Kira's right, Stiles. That was uncalled for. If you had said that a month ago, he would have ripped your throat out."

"That was the point. He'll be the weak link." It was his turn to give Scott a pointed look as he tipped back his chair. "I stalked her social media, I know what she looks like. Green eyes, freckles, never smiles in any of her pictures. She's cute for a freshman, and Liam _is_ a freshman. I don't need another "Scott and Allison" thing on my hands. Pretty new girls and young werewolves are a bad mix, Scott. You were bad enough; now imagine that with Liam's anger issues. It's not a pretty picture."

Scott shook his head. "Those were different circumstances, Stiles, and you know it. Besides, my dad is her legal guardian and he definitely isn't a werewolf hunter. Allison anchored me and made me happy. Liam deserves to be happy."

"So you're saying you want Liam to fall desperately in love with a girl who is, for all intents and purposes, your sister which would most likely drag her into this whole mess that you're so determined to keep her out of?" Stiles tilted his head and watched as Scott tried to form a response.

"No, that's… I'm not… That's not what I'm saying. I just know that telling him that he can't talk to her before they've even met isn't going to do anything. Remember when Derek told me to stay away from Allison?"

"Those were different circumstances, Scott, and you know it," repeated Stiles mockingly.

"Boys, enough," warned Melissa. She gave them the Mom Look, the one that somehow says _"You're both grounded," "Stop being stupid," "For the love of god, shut up"_ and _"Why me?"_ all at once. Both slumped down in their seats and stared at each other from across the table. "Good. Stiles, I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?"

"Yes." His gaze didn't waver from Scott.

"Okay. I'll make up a container for your dad. Malia, too."

"Malia doesn't need one. Her and Lydia are going to get something to eat when Lydia's done explaining trigonometry to her."

"Okay, just your dad then," she said with a small smile. Stiles had always been the kid who knew exactly what everyone around him was doing.

Scott's head jerked up and he turned to the kitchen window, listening to something the two humans wouldn't be able to hear for a few more seconds. "Car's pulling up," he said, the heartbeats of everyone in the room quickening, "They're here."

* * *

"We're here," announced Agent Raf, rather unnecessarily, as he shifted into park. Lucy held in a sigh that desperately wanted to escape. She pulled the headphones out of her phone and dropped them into her bag and then stuffed her phone into her back pocket.

As she hopped out of the car, three people exited the front door. The two boys stopped at the edge of the garage but the woman continued forward. Her shiny black curls bounced as she walked to where Agent Raf and Lucy stood at the front of the car.

"Lucy, honey, it's been too long," said Melissa. Cautiously, as if she was approaching a skittish animal, she leaned in and gave Lucy a quick hug. Lucy stiffened slightly before she relaxed into it. She remembered Melissa's hugs, and knew that no one in the world gave a better mom-hug than Melissa McCall. She smelled like fabric softener, hand soap and citrus shampoo. The clean scent washed over her and, for a second, Lucy almost felt like she was wanted, that she was coming home. And then she remembered her plan.

As if sensing her discomfort, Melissa stepped back and out of her personal space with a warm smile. Lucy studied the pavement and scuffed her shoe against it. When she looked up, the two boys had had come up behind Melissa and were talking to Agent Raf.

Scott looked a lot like his mom, with the same shiny black hair and brown eyes. He took after her so much more than he did Agent Raf. The shorter boy beside him could only be one person— Stiles Stilinski. He looked a lot like she remembered, all brown hair and light brown eyes with freckles and moles scattered around his face. He was also staring at her with barely concealed animosity.

"Hey, Lucy," greeted Scott, "It's been awhile."

"Yeah, it has," she muttered, looking everywhere but at him.

"Two years and nine months, but who's counting?" interjected Stiles, looking her over with a suspicious eye.

"Ignore Stiles," said Scott, elbowing his friend in the side, "I always do. Plus, he's still mad about the glue incident." Lucy ignored Stiles' over dramatic wince and snorted. She had been four and Stiles had been a jerk. At least one of them had grown up.

"Well, dinner is inside, you two are probably hungry. I know the boys are starving since I made them wait. Scott, Stiles, help Lucy bring her stuff in." Melissa's voice left no room for argument. Scott bounded forwards and Stiles shuffled after him. When Lucy reached the back of the car, they were staring over her meager possessions.

"This is all of it?" asked Stiles in disbelief. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Yep." And it was.

Most of her stuff from before was still at her parent's house at the edge of town. Agent Raf had agreed not to sell anything from the Beacon Hills house and Lucy had gotten him to have all of the stuff that survived the estate sale moved there from San Francisco. The rest of her belongings had condensed as she moved from school to school. She had it down to the bare minimum— two large boxes filled with random items and books, a bed-in-a-bag that held all of her sheets and comforters, and a large suitcase for her small amount of normal clothing and objects too delicate to toss in the boxes. Her backpack was hanging off her shoulder and her pillow and favourite blanket were in the backseat. All of it could fit in dorm rooms the size of a closet with space to spare.

Scott took both of the boxes (she didn't know how, they were heavy and she was sure he was a severe asthmatic) and Stiles grabbed her suitcase (with much more difficulty). Lucy grabbed the handle to the bed-in-a-bag and detoured around the car to grab her pillow and blanket. The boys were waiting for her at the front entry.

"We'll just put everything in the living room for now," said Scott, not looking the least bit tired as he stood with a box in each arm. "I can help you move it all up to your room after dinner."

"Okay." She dumped her stuff on the couch and followed them into the kitchen.

* * *

Dinner wasn't a glamorous affair and Lucy wasn't the only one who noticed the similarities to her last visit to Beacon Hills. She could feel the difference in the air, though. Agent Raf was much more relaxed and Scott was having an excited conversation with his dad about lacrosse. Stiles was still full of sarcastic comments but none of them ever seemed to be insulting Agent Raf. Melissa watched the whole thing with a small smile. In fact, the only tension in the whole room had come off of Lucy herself, who was expecting to wake up from this weird ream at any moment. And then Stiles would spare an almost hostile glance her way and she'd realized this was her new reality.

After dinner, both Stiles and Agent Raf had left, the former with yet another glare (if he hadn't seemed to radiate hate she would think he was checking her out) and the latter only leaving once she'd promised to call him after school the next day. Scott stayed true to his word and helped her haul everything upstairs. She still had no idea how he was lifting those boxes like they were filled with cotton candy. They were, like, fifteen pounds each and hard to hold with two hands, yet here he was carrying both at the same time. He'd retreated to his own room after that, probably to inform Stiles that Lucy hadn't tried to kill him. Yet.

Melissa had come to check on her and to see how she liked her room. She also let Lucy know that she was working the early shift the next day, so Scott would take her to school. Then she said good night and headed down the hall to her own room.

The guest bedroom they had given to Lucy wasn't big but it wasn't small. There was a desk in the corner with a bookcase and a dresser up against the other wall. She had a large window above the bed, which was covered in a light blue comforter. She had thrown her pillow on the bed immediately after she'd come upstairs and its sea-green cover seemed out of place in the relatively plain room. Her usual comforter was a wild mix of bright colours and patterns, something that had always livened up a dorm room, but this one would have to do until she had time to wash her bedding. Apparently Carlton Academy also didn't allow students time to properly clean up their belongings after they were expelled.

The room itself was okay, she guessed, and the package of welcome Oreos sitting on the desk from someone named Kira was a nice surprise, but the room felt weirdly empty. Ignoring her lack of possessions, she figured it was because it was all hers. The worst thing about boarding schools and summer programs had to be the lack of privacy. Lucy couldn't remember the last time she'd had a room to herself. Except after Marley, and then she would have given anything for the other girl to be back on the bottom bunk snoring like a buzz saw.

Lucy gave up on unpacking after she pulled her jackets and her few nice shirts out of her suitcase and hung them in the closet. A cute and simple shirtdress in a dark shade of blue was already hanging in there with a note that said " _Wear this on Monday. -Lydia"_ on it. Another one of Scott's friends was her guess. She had a feeling that the grey boot socks sitting on the dresser were from Scott's other friend, the one Stiles had mentioned at dinner. Lucy wasn't sure if she should be grateful that she had a group of popular juniors watching out for her or be creeped out that they were paying such close attention to her before she even arrived. But she really did adore Oreos, and the dress was made from some super soft material, and she loved boot socks by principal, so she settled on being mildly weirded out.

After shifting the boxes to the corner and her suitcase to the bottom of the closet, Lucy wandered downstairs and into the kitchen. She shuffled through the cabinets until she found a container of tea bags labeled chamomile and again until she found the mugs. A few minutes later she was tracing her steps back to the living room with a cup of tea in her hands.

The McCall house was an average size with an average design, but it felt a lot like Melissa's mom-hug. The whole house seemed comforting and safe, like she was walking into a protective haven. Lining the walls and mantel were framed photographs depicting every stage of Scott's life. Most had Stiles in them— though a few had Scott and Melissa, and even a more recent one of him and Agent Raf— and the two boys were always grinning. There was one picture she noticed on a side table, though, that was slightly different from the others. This one had three little kids; Scott and Stiles, who looked around ten with identical gap-toothed looks of surprised glee, and a seven or eight year old girl with light brown hair and smirk that probably had something to do with the purple stains on the boys' white t-shirts. All three were wearing party hats and had blue icing on their faces. In a fit of sentimentality she would later deny, Lucy reached out to run her fingers over their happy, smiling faces.

"I always wondered why she put that one in a frame," said a voice from behind her. It was all so wonderfully cliché that Lucy briefly wondered if it was a jump or a wince that made her spin around in surprise. Scott was smiling slightly at the picture. Lucy then wondered how he was always smiling.

"Your tenth birthday party, right? Stiles told me girls couldn't play Power Rangers, so I sprayed my juice box at you both." Her family had come down for the weekend from their apartment in San Francisco just for the party.

"Stained our shirts. Mom found it too funny to be mad at any of us though. Both our moms did."

"Yeah," sighed Lucy. Those kids had no idea what was in store for them. Scott's dad had moved to San Francisco for work and she knew Stiles and his dad had taken a long time to recover from his mom's death. But they both still had one parent, which was more than she could say.

"You know," said Scott softly, interrupting her thoughts, "Mom's really excited to have you here. She said something earlier to Stiles, something about always wanting a daughter. She said it as a joke but I think she was serious." He paused for a moment and Lucy could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ribcage. He was preparing himself for a speech, she noticed, and she already knew what he would say. Lucy hated this part of arriving somewhere new, the dreaded "Welcome to Your New Home" speech that housemothers and RAs gave out like candy.

"It's not like she thinks she can replace your mom— she knows she can't— but I think she just wants you to know that she cares. We'll give you your space, just I hope you know she's here for you." Lucy noticed that he said _we_ , and that when he said his mom, he meant them both. It was in his posture; in the way he was making himself seem less intimidating and how his hands were shoved deep in his jacket pockets.

"Okay," she said with as non-committal a voice as she could, and moved towards the stairs. He set his hand on her shoulder before she could take a step.

"Look, I know I'm not that great a kid, and that I cause her a lot more stress than I should, and I feel bad about it. So if you're upset about something, don't take it out on her. Take out it on me, take it out on Stiles, hell, even take it out on my dad, but not on her." Lucy heard the subtle warning in his voice. He was staring at her with those hopeful brown eyes and she immediately felt exhausted.

This wasn't the normal pity talk she got from people who knew her backstory or who had read her file. Scott wasn't talking to her like they were still those kids in the picture, smiling without a care in the world. He was telling her that he would be watching over her whether she liked it or not, and that Melissa actually wanted her here. His voice was devoid of pity and it made Lucy want to scream. Normally this was her chance to cut people down, to tell them to leave her alone, but this time she couldn't do it. She couldn't find it in her to be mean to Scott, and that annoyed her to no end. What was so damn special about Scott McCall?

Whatever it was, it caused her to she swallow the bitter retort resting on her tongue. Instead she summoned a smile that was more of grimace, spared another glance at the picture and took her cup of tea upstairs.

In the safety of her room, she changed into the _Go Wildcats!_ gym shirt from her fourth school and a pair of sweatpants before she curled up with her blanket on the bed. She drifted off to sleep wondering why Scott looked like he was about to leave the house at 10:30 on a school night, and why she hadn't been able to tell him to take his understanding smile and shove it up his ass.

* * *

 **SO I love reviews, fyi.**

 **I hope you guys love Lucy as much as I do. She's socially awkward and full of angst. Fanfiction at its best, right?**

 **Check out my others stories if you love slow, but impressive updates. And if you love yourself some inner turmoil. And some sarcasm. Love me some sarcasm.**

 **Safeguard will be updated soon as I already have a number of chapters written.**


	2. Chapter 2: The New McCall

**Hiya, I'm back. Already. Pre-written chapters are a blessing. I've only got up to chapter 3 and most of chapter 4 so be ready for that. However, Season 5 starts soon and that's what I like to call motivation to write.**

 **Thank you to everyone who favourited and followed. Seriously, thank you.**

 **And to the two who reviewed, you're amazing.**

 **Read. Review. Enjoy**

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 **aPaperheaRt~ Ah, stop it, I'm blushing. But seriously, thank you. I love compliments about my writing just as much as I do about my characters. So thanks so much. Writing this story has made me so psyched for season 5, too!** **I can't believe its only like three more weeks until the premier. And its a double nighter! Bring on the popcorn.**

 **Guest~ Really? You thinks its amazing too? I'll try to stop my happy tears. I'll also try my best to give her a story line that will help her** **develop in the best way possible. I'm not sure about what I'm going to do about season 5. It seems pretty complicated and that worries me a bit. I might just have it go away from cannon there to keep things simpler. I guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out.**

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Lucy woke up to the ringing of an alarm across the hall. It was one of those persistent alarms that drag you from even the deepest of dreams. It's constant screech sounded more like a siren going off than a clock. She was standing at the door, yawning widely, before she even realized she was awake. Then she poked her head out of the doorway, and saw Melissa trudging towards the bathroom. As she was closing the door, Melissa caught sight of her. She sighed tiredly.

"Lucy, honey, its 5:00 in the morning. Go back to sleep." Lucy blinked sleepily before turning back into her room. She laid in bed for approximately five minutes before she came to the conclusion that she wouldn't be falling back to sleep any time soon. That was also around the same time she realized that, for the first time in ages, she'd slept through the night.

From the top of her suitcase Lucy grabbed her favourite oversized hoodie (a dark green one from a USFCA summer program) and pulled it on as she walked down the hall. The bathroom door was closed, the light shining through the crack under the door. Melissa was still in there and Scott probably wouldn't be up for at least two hours. She decided to go downstairs and make coffee. Taking her time getting ready for school was better than laying in bed and becoming frustrated when she couldn't fall asleep.

Cinnamon toast, she decided, sounded like a great breakfast. It was, after all, her first-day-at-a-new-school tradition. And coffee was a necessity. The best part of boarding school had to be the unregulated intake of coffee that 80% of the students took advantage of.

By the time Melissa came downstairs ready for work, the timer for the coffee pot was just going off. Lucy was sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of toast. Melissa poured coffee into the two mugs waiting on the counter. "Couldn't fall back asleep?" she asked.

"Didn't even bother trying," shrugged Lucy. She accepted the cup Melissa handed her.

"You know," started Melissa, indicating her breakfast of choice, "As a healthcare professional, I should probably point out that this is not an appropriate breakfast for a growing teenager."

"But?" asked Lucy.

"But as a the mother of a growing teenage boy, I will say that its nice to see things that belong on toast actually on toast." Lucy started to giggle but stopped herself. The foreign sound carried into silence.

It was nice, she thought, the quietness. It was sort of soothing and peaceful. Her breakfast with Melissa was nothing like the reluctant chaos of mornings in a residence hall. The best part was that it wasn't even awkward. They just sat and enjoyed the quiet. When Melissa left for work at 5:50, she simply set her cup on the counter by the sink, reminded her to wake Scott up if he wasn't in the shower by 7:00, and told Lucy to make the most her day.

Taking a shower had required finding all of her stuff, and finding all of her stuff had required little digging through her suitcase. After returning from the bathroom, the slight chance she'd had of unpacking vanished. She hadn't noticed before, but her room now closely resembled the aftermath of Mount Vesuvius.

She grabbed a soft grey hoodie from it where is had landed on a lampshade and set it on the desk. Her gaze landed briefly on the boot socks before she picked up another hoodie, this one red. She tossed it into her suitcase where the rest of her strewn about clothing would follow. For good measure, she stuffed the boot socks into it too. She was left with a pair of jeans and a grey tank top that she slipped into. She pulled on her worn brown motorcycle boots and called it a day, ignoring the blue dress and the sudden urge she felt to wear it. The note said to wear it Monday, but Lucy had a feeling it was so this girl, Lydia, could figure out who she was.

Lucy checked the clock. 7:20. She could hear the shower running which meant Scott was, in fact, awake. She grabbed her backpack, phone and the grey hoodie and went to wait downstairs. There she poured another cup of coffee and perched herself on the couch. The seconds ticked away as she stared into space, trying not to think. She was startled back into reality by Scott tripping down the last few stairs.

"Morning, Luce," he popped up from the crouch he'd landed in like nothing had happened.

"Morning," she grumbled. She should have guessed that Scott was a morning person. He poured a glass of juice and chugged it back in one go.

"So, I was thinking that we could head to the school a little bit earlier than normal. I can show you all your classrooms, help you find your locker-"

"That's fine, really Scott," she interrupted, ignoring the guilt she felt as his bright smile faded a little. "I've been the new girl a few times. I can find my classes."

"Oh, um, well, we can still go in early, if you want. Then you can find everything yourself. And Stiles wants us to meet him. And by us, I mean me and some of the friends that we told you about. Not you. Unless you want to come. Because you can," he amended, stumbling over his words.

"I'm good, thanks." The awkward atmosphere clung to them.

"Do you have all your paperwork and stuff?" he asked to break the silence. He tapped his fingers anxiously against the counter. Lucy patted her backpack assuringly. "Then I guess we can probably go now."

Lucy set her mug in the sink while Scott grabbed an energy bar from the cupboard. She followed him out the back door and into the garage. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't the rickety, green monstrosity parked along the wall. Lucy stopped short.

She'd heard Agent Raf talk about Scott's bike and how he'd saved up for it himself. She'd also seen the hint of disapproval in his eyes. Suddenly Melissa's slight grimace from the night before when she'd been told Scott would drive made sense. That thing didn't look street-legal.

"Lucy?" Scott was staring at her, a bit worried. "Are you okay with riding on the bike? I'm a good driver, I swear, but I can call Stiles and ask him to pick us in the jeep."

That snapped her out of it. There was no way in hell that she was spending more time with Stiles than she had to. "That's fine, really. Don't call Stiles."

He seemed to smirk a little at that. "You sure?"

Lucy forced a smile across her face and ignored the crack in the back fender. It wasn't like Scott would do anything to get her killed. "Depends. Do I get the red helmet?"

* * *

The school parking lot was less than half full when they pulled up. The buses hadn't even arrived. Lucy wondered what was so important that Stiles had to meet Scott over half an hour before class. Then again, it was Scott and Stiles. If she remembered her childhood correctly, she probably didn't want to know.

She pulled the red helmet off and shook her hair out. Tucking the helmet under her arm, she opened her phone to check the note with her locker number. 263. So it was on the second floor. Looking up at the school building, she was totally underwhelmed.

The building was three stories tall, maybe four if you counted the walk out level to the sports fields. Its blue paint was flecking off on the entrances and the faintest traces of spray paint could be seen on the brown siding. It was nothing like the imposing iron gates and old cedar doors that were ubiquitous in all the private schools she'd been stuck in.

"Did you forget anything? Are you sure you have all your paperwork?" Scott's voice interrupted her thoughts. Once again, she patted her backpack as it hung half off her shoulder.

"Your dad had everything handled before I even attended my expulsion hearing. I think I'm slowly destroying his faith in humanity. Or at least whatever's left." Lucy hitched her backpack higher up on her shoulder and headed towards the unimpressive entrance. The sidewalk was clear of kids but there were a few cluttered around the doors.

"Luce, wait a sec!" called Scott from close behind her. She stopped and spun around slowly to see him right behind her. He was making his worried puppy expression. She exhaled in a puff.

"Look, Scott. I get that you really want your dad to stick around all, but you don't have to worry about me making him leave. You're the reason I'm in this stupid town, okay? So just stop with the hovering. I don't need to be associated with the captain of the lacrosse team. Go talk to your friends and just ignore me like a normal teenager. Thanks for the ride, I'll see you after school." She turned to stomp away when he stepped forward with his hand open. In it rested a five-dollar bill.

"Dad said to give this to you for lunch," he said, not unkindly. She snatched the bill up with muttered thanks. "And I was only going to say that Stiles and I have lacrosse practice after school, so we can't drive you. You can walk home, or if you want to wait, we can drive you home after practice."

"I'll walk," she mumbled.

"Okay, but it's a pretty long walk. You can always hang around the library and catch up on what you missed if you wait." Lucy weighed her options. He had a point, plus she didn't want to walk home carrying all those textbooks.

"I guess I'll stay."

"Great! I'll hurry out after, promise."

"Super," muttered Lucy as she once again turned to leave. Once again, he stopped her.

"Oh, and Lucy? I promised both of my parents that I would look out for you, so that's what I'm going to do. Whether you like it or not." The determination colouring his words made Lucy feel even worse about going off on him. Before she did something idiotic like apologize, she ducked her head and walked away. This time he didn't stop her. She swung the red helmet around her wrist. Scott was just too damn nice. Give her a snide Stiles any day.

The kids milling around the doors gave her weird looks as she walked past. Of course they knew who Scott McCall was. She had a feeling that by the end of the day her anonymity would be nonexistent.

* * *

Walking to her locker as the lunch bell rang, Lucy was weighed down by textbooks and high expectations. Other peoples, of course, not her own. She was grumbling to herself about vapid teenage wannabes when a noise caught her attention. It was a voice, actually, a voice calling for someone to slow down. It took her a second to realize that the voice was addressing her.

"Hey! Hey, wait up!" She snuck a look over her shoulder. It was the blonde boy who sat in front of her in biology. He had an obnoxious habit of shifting in his seat that caused his chair to squeak irritatingly every thirty seconds. He noticed the falter in her step and took advantage of it. "Hi, I'm Liam," he introduced himself with a smile.

"Lucy." She ignored the hand he held out to shake. Instead, her eyes drifted to the backpack slung lazily over his shoulder in a fashion similar to her own. The embroidered last name and number identified him as a jock, and the self-assured grin was one hundred percent lacrosse player. The gloves sticking out the side pocket helped too.

"So," said Liam casually, "You must be the New McCall."

"You're the 13th person to call me that today." Her face was carefully blank. "It's getting on my nerves." Liam blinked in surprise. He seemed a little affronted.

"Sorry, I guess," he shrugged, "Scott's pretty well known around here," he said in lieu of a real explanation. She could practically hear the hero-worship in his voice.

"Everyone's favourite alpha male," she muttered. She quickened her step, trying to get slightly ahead of him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded hurriedly, quickening his step to keep up. Lucy was a tiny bit impressed. Not many people could keep up with her, lax jocks or not, and he didn't even seemed bothered. It randomly reminded her of Scott and the one-ton boxes.

"Nothing," grumbled Lucy.

"Clearly it's not nothing," his said with borderline panic. Lucy rolled her eyes at his tone. Just another freshman trying to get in with the popular kids. She stopped and he skidded to a halt in front of her. She noticed that his eyes were Tiffany-box blue and shifting around the hall, probably looking for Scott or someone else who could see how nice he was being to the New McCall.

"You know, you're right. It's not nothing. I am sick of being referred to as the New McCall. We're not related, and Scott and I aren't friends. Go find someone else to harass to get in with cool kids."

"Scott and I are friends," said Liam slowly, "And I was only trying to be nice."

"Right," Lucy scoffed, "That's was almost convincing. And I'm sure Scott the oblivious idiot would have fallen for it. Now, you poor freshman wannabe, why don't you go score some pity points by telling everyone how amazingly nice you were to the New McCall and how she blew you off." Her words had the intended effect. Liam's shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched. She saw his hands grip desperately at the straps on his bag. The familiar glow of malicious, petty victory washed over her.

Liam forcefully uncurled his fingers. He seemed to be struggling to control his breathing. What a weirdo. "You know, I was going to ask you to sit with me and my friend Mason in the cafeteria, but now you can screw off. Which sucks for you since Mason really loves new kids. Stiles was right, you are a bitch." He spat the final insult at her and stalked off. Lucy continued walking to hallway 2A, pretending not to hear the sound of a fist smashing into a locker.

* * *

The fabric chairs in the library were deceivingly uncomfortable. Lucy discovered that the hard way at lunch and again afterschool when she started her homework. Her classes had all transferred over seamlessly, and the only classwork she'd missed had been from the four-day gap between getting kicked out of Carlton and arriving at Beacon Hills. Lucy thanked her lucky stars for the state regulated curriculum.

At 4:30 on the dot, she was trudging towards the bleachers on the lacrosse field. Much to her dismay, the players were still lined up in some sort of drill and they didn't look like they were stopping anytime soon. Four of the players' heads shot up in her direction. She recognized one as Scott and made a "W" with her arms in the universal sign for _what the hell?_ Scott glanced around to see how far he was from the front of the line, shook his head at something one of the others said— she had ten buck on Stiles complaining— and broke away from the group. As he jogged over he pulled off his helmet to reveal an apologetic grimace and sweaty hair. Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, determined that this time she would be able to hold strong against Scott's puppy-dog eyes.

"I should have walked home," she stated.

"I sorry, Luce," he shrugged apathetically, "Coach is in a really bad mood. It's Stiles' fault. We had Econ last block and we, uh, frustrate him."

As if on cue, a man with a whistle and aggressively spiked hair yelled, "What is this, McCall, happy hour? Get your ass back on the field!"

"Coming, Coach!" answered Scott.

"That's the Economics teacher? For freshman too?" Lucy thought it had to be a joke.

"He's a lot better than you think he'd be," reassured Scott. Coach blew his whistle in their direction, one short, sharp blow that pierced the air. She saw Scott flinch before dutifully pulling his helmet back on. "I gotta get back. It should only be, like, half an hour longer." He sprinted back to his place in line. Lucy made her way to the bleachers and pulled out the English novel. It wasn't like she had any other choice but to wait.

* * *

Scott was turning out to be the most honest-faced liar out there because forty-five minutes later the team was still running laps. Lucy was staring to believe that she would never find a comfortable place to sit ever again.

Every time Scott passed her half of the field, he would send this guiltily anxious smile in her direction. Its appeasing affects were usually counteracted mere seconds later by Stiles's smug expression, as if he was getting satisfaction by messing around and making her wait on a hard metal bleacher. Which honestly made no sense to her since he was the one running laps, but whatever. Every time Liam passed her, Lucy would receive a lovely glare akin to the one from when she walked into their English class and was forced to take the empty seat right next to him.

Honestly, this whole thing was getting ridiculous.

The coach was standing in the center of the field, clipboard in hand and neon orange whistle hanging from his mouth. He would yell random insults every few minutes to keep the teams' morale up.

Lucy stood up and steeled herself. She was potentially making herself a target for the rest of the year, and from what she'd seen, this guy was borderline crazy. Ignoring the squirming in her stomach that signified that this was a very, very bad idea, Lucy dodged around two runners and marched towards the center of the field.

She saw Scott and Stiles making all sorts of wild gestures, signaling her to quit, to abort her suicide mission, but she ignored them. "Uh, Coach?" she asked, suddenly hesitant.

"What?" he barked. Then he eyed her sideways and let this whistled drop from his mouth. "Who the hell are you?"

"Lucy. Goodwin." He paused.

"Never heard of you."

"I'm new. I'm in your freshman Econ." He stared blankly at her. Lucy swallowed her pride. "I'm the New McCall."

"Now that I've heard. What the hell are you doing on my field, New McCall?" He leaned down suddenly, "Do you play lacrosse, too?" Lucy jumped backwards.

"Er, no. Look, I just want to know how much longer practice is going to go on for. Scott is my ride home." Coach looked at her like she was something he found in the locker room. Apparently not playing lacrosse meant he had zero interest in her.

"Practice ends when I decide practice ends. Right now, I'm thinking another fifteen laps. Do you have a problem with that, New McCall? Because I can change that to thirty, maybe fifty. Who knows, maybe I'll bump it up to a hundred and keep it going until they pass out from exhaustion." He was staring at her with this insane light in his eyes. This man was clearly some type of sadist.

"No, no, that's fine. I'll just… go sit back down." She backed away a few steps before breaking into a jog.

She was a quarter of the way back to the bleachers when Coach called out, "You a runner, New McCall?"

"Yeah," she answered slowly.

"The 3600-meter?"

"Cross country," she stated, walking back towards Coach.

"You any good?" he asked, surveying the players that were trying to keep running with their heads permanently cranked towards Lucy. Stiles was glaring at her accusingly.

"Decent," she shrugged. Mentioning she was a state champion was probably a bad idea.

"Practices are on Tuesdays. I better see you there." Lucy stared at him, taken aback. Ignore borderline, this man was clearly insane. An insane sadist with a violent urge to win. Then something occurred to her.

"I'll be there if you wrap up practice in the next ten minutes." She announced it loudly, drawing the attention of half the people on the field. Scott and Stiles were staring at her with dropped jaws. Coach laughed.

"Good try, sweetheart, but this is my practice. My practice, my rules."

"You're an economics teacher," countered Lucy, "think of this as, as terms to a business deal. I want to go home, you want a runner who has been to state. Twice."

"Keep talking." He was intrigued. Perfect. He hadn't expected her to be that highly ranked.

Lucy took a deep breath. "The team does five more laps before you call it quits and I'll start training for regionals tomorrow."

He seemed to consider it.

"Not good enough, New McCall."

"I play volleyball, too. My old school won the Northern California regionals last fall," she added desperately, "I'll join the team next year." Now this was going out on a limb, especially just to get some stupid practice to end. If things went her way she wouldn't even be in California next fall. "And you can fail me in Econ if I don't."

Coach stared at her blankly. Lucy's frustration mounted. "Come on, Coach, its an investment. I'm a freshman. That is three more years of trophies under your belt." He blew the whistle. Liam, the only one still running, slowed to a walk in the direction of the congregating team.

"You all hear that? New McCall here has made all you cupcakes a nice little deal," he yelled. Lucy felt everyone's' gazes drop down to her. "Five laps and then I want your asses off the field faster than I can say asses!"

They all bolted away, racing to finish. Coach turned to her with a cheshire cat grin.

"Pleasure doing business, New McCall. I'll be seeing you at practice tomorrow, 3:30 sharp."

Lucy groaned. Never in her wildest dreams had she seen this coming.

* * *

"Excited for the game this weekend, Scott?" asked Agent Raf after swallowing a mouthful of mu shu pork. Scott had no such qualms, answering with his mouth overflowing.

"It'll be tough. We're down two with injuries and this team is known for taking cheap shots." His dad nodded in understanding.

"What about that kid on your team, the young one. You still worried about him?"

"Liam?" said Scott, "A little bit. He's getting better at controlling his outburst on the field." Lucy snorted, drawing the attention of the two males. Lucy played with her chopsticks and stared down at her plate. When she didn't acknowledge them, they continued with their conversation.

Agent Raf had decided that Thursdays would be the "McCall" bonding day. Both her (the New McCall) and Scott (McCall, just McCall) were supposed to have dinner with Agent Raf (Agent McCall) where they would discuss their week and have stimulating discussions. If she didn't have work Melissa (Mama McCall) would join them. This week was the first official dinner. Surprisingly Stiles had opted out, something about pizza with his dad and the Malia, girl she'd met the day before.

"-what about you, Luce?" Agent Raf's voice cut through her thoughts. She glanced up from her plate. "Hmmm?"

"How's school?" he repeated patiently.

"S'fine," she mumbled.

"Caught up on all your classes?"

"Working on it." She chewed thoughtfully, "English is the hardest to catch up on. Every teacher does different books."

"Make any new friends?" he asked, face full of hope. She shrugged. "Not really."

"Lucy, we talked about this," sighed Agent Raf.

"You talked. I had headphones in," she said. Before she could receive another lecture about trying, Scott swooped in.

"She has the respect of half the lacrosse team. Even Stiles was a little impressed. You should have seen her, Dad. We'd been running for hours and Lucy just walks up and convinces Coach to end practice." Scott was basically bouncing in his seat. Agent Raf's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Really?"

"Yeah, she made a deal with him. What was it again, Luce?"

"I had to join cross country for the rest of the season," she jabbed her chopsticks into the mess of steamed veggies and beef on her plate, "And promise to try out for volleyball next year, or he's going to fail me in Econ. Jokes on him." She muttered the last part to herself, but by the slight slump in Scott's shoulders, she knew he heard her. Agent Raf continued munching on his broccoli, oblivious. Lucy wondered how Scott could have heard her and not Agent Raf when they were all sitting the same distance apart. This was just another thing to question to her list of Mysterious Things About Scott McCall.

She'd been expecting Inhaler Boy, the socially awkward teen who got asthma attacks tying his shoes. Instead she got Super Scott the lacrosse captain and his merry band of followers. His friends— minus Stiles the jackass and Liam the weirdo— even seemed pretty cool, if seemingly random. Something was up and she briefly entertained the drug-runners theory again before discarding it. If he was making that much money, Scott would have paid off his mom's debt himself.

If there was one thing that hadn't obviously changed about Scott it was his innocence, and after spending a week in the same house she knew that had transformed too. He wasn't naively obtuse anymore, just annoyingly optimistic. Next to him, Lucy felt a lot more like the condescending, little bitch she'd evolved into.

Maybe that was the difference between them, mused Lucy as she tuned out the idle sports chatter. Scott wrapped himself in a nice, warm blanket of hope and faith in humanity while Lucy had acquired spiked armor to protect herself from the darkness that followed in her wake.

* * *

 **The first two chapter are really long because I have to set everything up.**

 **Chapter three is probably medium length. Chapter four will be the same. Chapter five is going to be full of dialogue. Prepare yourselves.**

 **Just so you know, I apologize. I have no idea the differences between the American school system and the Canadian one (miniscule as they may be). I also don't know how Americans talk about track. It probably isn't in meters, but I don't know the equivalent races so… whatevs.**  
 **Oh, and I have no idea if the curriculum is the same per state, but I'm going to go with it to make her switching with a month left of school easier to believe.**

 **Has anyone else noticed that Coach Finstock is literally a human version of Coach Hedge from Heroes of Olympus?**

 **So, regarding Liam. Please remember that Scott in season one got pissed off about the randomest things. I'm rewatching it with my friend and oh, wow, this show survived on its characters alone. I'm so glad their special effects budget was upped. But to the point. I Feel that Liam would get really upset/protective over anything about Scott since it is his alpha and all, and since Scott is a really great alpha/friend. That's part why he got so worked up over his conversation with Lucy. And cuz Stiles was right about Lucy. No one likes it when Stiles is right.**


	3. Chapter 3: Secrets

**Chapter 3 is up, chapter 4 is complete and chapter 5 is a work in progress. My inspiration for this story officially trumps all others.**

 **Oh, shits about to get real, guys.**

 **Does anyone here watch Rizzoli and Isles? Its a crime show set in Boston and its literally the best. I love it. But anyway, for those of you who need some incentive to watch it, a reoccurring character in the show is a mechanic named Giovanni and he's played by none other than the great Agent McCall. It hilarious the difference in personalities. Or at least it cracks me up.**

 **Read. Review. Enjoy**

* * *

 ** _Clumsy-Bookworm298~_ I know right. Thats all I can ever picture during any scene with Coach. And thank you, you have no idea what that means to me! Seriously, I'm like squealing and jumping for joy. **

* * *

"Took you long enough. I've been waiting out here for hours."

Lucy rolled her eyes at Liam's complaint and unlocked the McCall's front door with the shiny, new key she'd finally received the week before.

"Here's an idea; try going to your own house for once." He was silent so she assumed he was making faces at her back as she crossed over the threshold. Liam shoved past her, without any expression of gratitude, and dropped his backpack by the door. Lucy kicked it as she walked past but didn't say anything. She was far to used to the randoms constantly hanging around the house. She did, however, hate that this particular random was always here. She and Liam had yet to agree on anything. Or disagree really. They usually silently seethed in each other's presence, the loathing rolling off of them in waves.

"Do you have any cookies?" asked Liam as he opened all the cabinet doors.

"Why are you here?" asked Lucy, dropping her stack of binders on the table. She hated walking home.

"Waiting for Scott." Lucy rolled her eyes.

"Scott's at the animal clinic."

"I know." Now it was Liam's turn to roll his eyes. "I came here because he takes forever when he's there. Where does Ms. McCall put the cookies?"

"Why didn't you get a ride with Stiles? Or Kira?" She reached over his shoulder and plucked out the box of macaroons he was searching for.

She'd met the rest of Scott's friends a few days after that fateful Monday. It had been three weeks since then. There was the Oreo leaver, Kira, who was surprisingly on the lacrosse team. It was surprising mostly because Kira was super sweet and lacrosse is vicious. She was also Scott's girlfriend. Then there was Malia (boot socks) with her slightly feral smile and blunt way of speaking, who stared at Lucy until Stiles had bumped her shoulder and muttered something along the lines of progress. Liam and who she assumed to be Mason had stood off to the side, watching but not interacting much. Mason had smiled brilliantly at her but the one who stood out the most was Lydia. She immediately made Lucy feel ridiculously young and seriously inferior, what with her perfect makeup and designer everything. She was the opposite of Lucy's messy ponytail and hastily applied mascara. Lydia was the type of girl who pulled of the blue dress hanging in Lucy's closet.

"Stiles had to get something from his house," Liam said, ticking off his fingers, "Lydia was going to stop at the bank, Kira had to stay after school with her dad and Malia stayed with her. Mason has band but it not like he can drive anyway."

"And your house burned down in a tragic fire last night?"

"Funny," he sneered, leaving the cupboards open and going to the fridge. Lucy closed them with a sharp snap. Liam winced but ignored her. She rolled her eyes and stalked out of the room, muttering something about taking a nap. Let Scott take care of his lapdog.

In her room she collapsed on her bed with an obnoxious groan. Liam annoyed her way too much to be healthy. He was so full of himself and, boy, could he hold a grudge. And he was always at her house. Correction; not her house. The McCall house, where she currently resided.

The rest of Scott's friends were nice enough, she supposed. Kira, Lydia and Mason were always trying to include her, much to Stiles and Liam's dismay. But she stayed away. She'd learned her lesson the first few times in a new place. Also, their little collective's worst quality was that they were pushy and nosy and she didn't need them snooping around in her life. Didn't need them asking about her old schools and why she was kicked out. Didn't need them finding the medication she wasn't taking or the things she saw that the drugs never stopped. They didn't need to know about Marley or the others, about her guilt. About the ghosts that liked to follow her.

Lucy smushed her face into her pillow and breathed deeply. The sun shining softly through her window was warm and soothing. Her mind emptied slowly, like sand in an hourglass. Her Liam-induced bad mood slipped a little.

Minus the obvious, she had been a little wrong about Beacon Hills. There were some positive things. The classes were relatively easy. Melissa always had orange juice in the fridge. She hadn't had a hallucination since she arrived. She'd been sleeping through the nights, no nightmares of taunting, dead roommates; no icy fingers reaching for her or voices whispering about that she couldn't save them over and over again in those last few seconds before sleep.

Naps were nice. Eight hours a night was even better.

As long as she avoided Scott and his curious friends she would be fine, she decided as she felt herself being drawn into sleep. As long as no one knew she could still pretend she was normal.

* * *

A loud banging startled Lucy from her nap. She shot up in bed, knowing immediately that the cause for the noise was Scott or Stiles. She checked her phone for the time, cursing under her breath. She'd only meant to sleep for thirty minutes, not three hours. Of course it was the one night she had homework.

She was about to sit in her desk chair when she realized her binders were still downstairs. With a soft groan she opened the door, careful to slip out before the hinges could creak. Most of Scott's friends seemed to share his incredible hearing. It was freaky. She padded down the hall in her bare feet and paused at the top of the stairs. She really didn't want to have to go down there unless she had to.

"-maybe we should just tell her, Scott." A voice drifted up from the living room. It sounded like Kira and there was only one guess to who they were referring.

"No. No way." Lucy would know Scott's voice anywhere. She inched farther forward.

"But if Lydia thinks-" argued another.

"I don't think," interrupted who Lucy guessed to be Lydia, "Thinking involves empirical evidence. I just have a feeling. Lucy is involved, Scott."

It went silent. Lucy crept down a few steps. What were they talking about? Maybe the better question was why were they talking about her?

"Scott, maybe Lydia has a point."

"No, Stiles, she can't. Lucy doesn't know anything. And if Lydia thinks she'd involved in someones death then she's wrong. She has to be."

"I'm never wrong," answered Lydia so faintly Lucy barely heard.

Lucy's heart sped up, the beats easily doubling in time. Scott sounded so sure of her she couldn't bear for him to know the truth. But how could the others know? It wasn't possible. It wasn't even included in the FBI report.

"Bad things happen when we don't listen to Lydia, Scott, and you know it," said Stiles. "Maybe we should just talk to her." Lucy shrank back to the top step but didn't leave. She needed to know more. She struggled to control her breathing.

"Someone is going to die, Scott. I don't know who, or how, but they're going to die and it's someone we know. Lucy is involved somehow. What if it's her? What if we had a chance to save her and we didn't listen to it. You are one of the only people who's always believed me, Scott." Lydia's voice was strong but still soft. She sounded terrified. Scott started to answer her but was cut off abruptly.

"Do you hear that? Sounds like someone's-"

Lucy didn't wait to hear the rest; she was already backing towards her room. Malia appeared at the bottom of the stairs faster than humanely possible. Her eyes glowed blue and Lucy swallowed a startled shriek. Screaming would do nothing for her. Next to Malia, Scott appeared out of nowhere.

"I told you. Listen to her heartbeat. Her breathing is off too. And I can smell the fear from here," said Malia in her matter-of-fact manner.

"Good nap, Luce?" asked Scott innocently.

"I'm just grabbing my binders," she said quickly, too quickly. Malia's eyebrows rose. Her eyes were back to brown. Lucy wondered if she'd imagined it, if this was the beginning of another hallucination. Maybe this whole thing had been a figment of her imagination. Maybe she was finally suffering from a psychotic break.

"Well, Mason wants to ask about your guys' math homework. Maybe you could help him out?" Stiles stood at Scott's shoulder.

"Haven't done it yet." Lucy's eyes darted to the front door. Scott and Stiles eased closer.

"Lydia's really good at math. She can help you," assured Malia. Scott had one foot on the bottom step.

"I prefer to do my homework by myself, thanks," answered Lucy.

They were cutting off any escape route she could attempt. Except one. They didn't know about how high she could jump, how high she'd always been able to jump. With enough momentum she could vault herself onto the railing and land by the front door.

Scott was standing on the third step. Malia and Stiles had closed in behind him. Lucy threw herself forwards, startling them. She made it down five steps before she met Scott. An inhumane strength filled her and she jumped sideways, pushing off his shoulders with her hands. She landed on the banister, sliding. The wood stuck beneath her bare feet. The others had all stopped behind her. She pushed off at the end and soared through empty space. She was home free.

A mass knocked into her from the left, arms encircling her midair. Together they flew sideways and landed in a heap. Lucy's head hit the floor with a slam, her vision blurring. The mass groaned as her elbow impaled them just under the ribs.

Someone yelled for Liam at the same time Scott yelled her name. Lucy's hatred for the kid grew as she realized who she was trapped under. Liam jumped away as they both noticed how much their bodies were in contact. He whimpered as he stood, a hand immediately lifting his shirt to reveal a large purple bruise over the bottom of his ribs. Right were Lucy had elbowed him.

Lucy struggled to her feet, her head pounding. What the hell was going on here? How could she have made a bruise like that? How could a bruise show up that dark that fast?

Scott seemed stuck somewhere between disbelief and concern, his slightly crooked jaw hanging open. Kira's hands covered her mouth and Lydia looked as if she was about to scream. Malia, believe it or not, was growling.

"This is bad, this is very bad," said Stiles.

"Lucy how did you-" stuttered Scott.

"You just jumped five feet in the air," babbled Stiles. "That's physically not possible. You're like five foot five, not even. That's almost your own height."

"And you bruised Liam. Normal humans shouldn't be able to do that," said Scott, looking at the younger boys rapidly healing mark. Already it had faded to a grisly reddish purple.

"Normal humans?" she asked. Her head was spinning. "What do you mean _normal humans_? How is he healing that fast? And why is she growling like a rabid animal?" she asked pointing to Malia. Her volume had risen substantially with every word. "Why were you talking about me? Who's going to die?"

Scott stepped towards her, but Lucy stumbled back towards the door. She started laughing, the absurdity of the situation settling over her. This had to be a hallucination. She should never have stopped taking her pills. "Lucy," started Scott with a calmness no one felt, "I know you're probably freaking out right now, but you need to listen okay?" He paused but Lucy couldn't control herself enough to stop laughing. It had been so long since she laughed. "Beacon Hills is full of weird things no one knows about," he continued. Lucy was hiccupping between peals of laughter now, head light from oxygen deprivation. The panic would set in any second now. "This is going to seem hard to believe, but Liam and I, we're werewolves. Malia is a were-coyote and Kira is a kitsune. Lydia's a banshee, it's how she knows someone is going to die." He stopped and looked around at the others, silently begging one of them to take over. Lucy stopped laughing. It made sense and that scared her shitless.

"Do you have any idea how crazy you all sound?" she shrieked before asking again, quieter, "Do you?" No one said anything.

"This is some sort of drug-induced haze isn't it?" hyperventilated Lucy. Werewolves, banshees, kit-thingies, this was all too much. The others stood staring at her, stunned. "Stiles has somehow managed to rig the whole house into some giant hot box and he's smoking magic mushrooms or something, isn't he." She fumbled for the doorknob. The hysterics were going to set in soon, more than they already had. She needed to get away from them. She needed air.

"I'm done. I'm leaving. I'm calling your dad and he is coming to get me and I will live the next month in a hotel room. Far away from here." She pushed the door open and crashed out.

"Lucy, please! Just listen to me!" called Scott as he rushed forwards. Lucy turned to face him. "You're all insane! And they think I'm mentally unstable? You all belong in Eichen House!" Stiles winced but Lucy was too busy studying the empty street to notice. She just had to run away and everything would be okay. Run away and never come back.

She took another step back and ran into someone. Scott was yelling something but she couldn't hear. Hands gripped her upper arms, nails digging into her flesh. Something trickled down her arms. Blood, her blood. They weren't nails, she realized, they were _claws_.

"Scott!" she screamed, "Scott! Help!" She flung her elbows back into the person sides, just like she had to Liam. They let go and she leapt forward. "Scott!"

An arm wrapped around her neck and jerked her back. She choked back a cry as she bit down on her tongue. A hand came down over her mouth, a rag soaked in something sweet covering her nose. She screamed again but it came out weaker. The world swam around her. Her kidnapper laughed and dragged her farther into the street. Lucy blinked and the world got even dimmer. Scott was still yelling but she couldn't yell back. Someone was screaming. It sounded like Lydia.

The banshee, she thought. Didn't banshees scream? She couldn't remember. The darkness was too welcoming. It cut out the panic and confusion from earlier. This was nice. The darkness was nice. The sweet smelling rag from earlier fell across her face again. She stopped struggling. The darkness rushed her.

* * *

 **Just so everyone knows, I will be on vacation in Mexico to visit my best friend in the entire universe for three weeks so updates won't be a thing. And my laptop is going to my Dad's tech guy to get checked over. So there really won't be any updates.**

 **And I really need to work on my other stories, like really bad.**

 **But seriously, review please.**


	4. Chapter 4: Something Wicked

**I decided to put this update on right before I leave. Its the last of my already written chapters so enjoy it.**  
 **I'm working on chapter five but I'm having some difficulty getting it to come out the way I wanted. Its a really important one so it has to be perfect. I'll update hopefully when I get home.**

 **SO I watched the Teen Wolf marathon of season 3b on mtv this weekend and came to three conclusions:**  
 **1\. Agent Rafe is really Agent Raf and the wiki page had it wrong. So I went back and changed that.**  
 **2\. Nogistune Stiles is my favourite villain no matter what.**  
 **3\. Season 3b is my favourite season. ("Dude, its Beacon Hills.")**

 **Read. Review and Enjoy.**

* * *

 ** _aPaperheaRt~_ Thank you! I'm really excited for everyone to know what Lucy is too. But, unfortunately, we're not there yet. **

**_BloodyAvenger21~_ Yeah I guess you're right. I know I almost never review. Thanks for indulging me and my pity party. I hope you like this!**

 ** _LighteningScar~_ Thank you for the feedback. It's a little difficult for me to take criticism and/or helpful anything (I'm working on it) so thank you. Being brutally honest, yeah its a little over done, but thats what I wanted to read and that was the character stuck in my head, so I hope I can maybe make it a little different. **

* * *

Lucy woke up tied to a chair and that wasn't the worst part. The darkness and the overly sweet scent of chloroform invading her senses also wasn't the worst part. No, the worst part was the petrifying knowledge that she'd been in this exact position before.

Everything came flooding back; the blood, the pain, the fear. The bullet hole in her mother's forehead. The blank look in her father's eyes. The taunting voices of her kidnappers.

"Wakey, wakey, little girl. Scott's going to be here to rescue you very soon." Lucy's eyes snapped open, the pale green luminescent in the dim, incandescent light. Her wrists chafed against their restraints.

It was only the middle of the night, she noted in relief, if the deep shadows were anything to go by. It had only been hours, not days. Sherriff Stilinski and Agent Raf were probably already looking for her. She glanced around but couldn't see anyone. Or anything, she thought, as the image of Malia's glowing blue eyes popped into her head.

"You have your father's eyes," a voice cooed, "how sweet." Lucy jerked her head to the left. A woman stepped directly into the single shaft of moonlight. She was beautiful but ragged, like she'd been sleeping under bushes and using a McDonald's sink as a shower. Her expensive clothes were grimy and torn. The woman's eyes held a manic gleam that scared her, and that was before they turned acid green and slitted like a cat.

The gag in Lucy's mouth muffled her screech. The woman tossed her head back in a laugh then prowled towards her with even, gliding steps. Her smile was cruel as she slid the rag from Lucy's mouth.

"What are you?" asked Lucy, pretending not to hear the quiver in her own voice, "How do you know about my parents?" The woman ignored her second question, letting out an amused purr instead. An involuntary shiver ran down Lucy's spine. This lady was crazy, crazier than Coach even.

"They call me _La Loba._ Do you know what that means, Little McCall?"

"New McCall," Lucy corrected automatically. If she was stuck with a stupid nickname, it was going to be that one. "And it's Spanish for the she-wolf."

"Very good," purred the woman, _La Loba_ or whatever she wanted to be called, "but do you know what it means?"

"That you have issues?" suggested Lucy. The woman only laughed. It was a cold sound, full of mockery and promises of pain.

"They haven't told you anything, have they? About their little pack; about the truth behind the deaths in Beacon Hills. About Allison." She said the last name like it was something to be revered. Then she laughed again, this time bitterly. "Of course they haven't. Scott would want to keep you away from all this, would want to protect you. They wouldn't know where you come from. I doubt you even do."

"Are you Stiles' shrooms supplier because I think you need to stop sampling your stock." Lucy swallowed loudly as the woman's malice glittering eyes came back into focus.

"Oh, honey, I'm not a drug dealer. But you have no idea what I'm capable of. You may not know anything, but that will make it so much better. Scott is going to be so desperate to save you."

"I don't need to be saved, lady," said Lucy hoping she sounded braver than she felt. "I have a nasty habit of getting kidnapped and, trust me, you don't want to know what happened the last time. I'm the one coming out of this unscathed on the other side, not you."

The woman grabbed her by the chin and pulled Lucy as far out of her chair as her restraints would allow and then farther, lifting the chair as well. The tight grip choked her and the chair's weight made her hang as limp as a rag doll. Lucy could feel the unnatural strength in the woman's hand and arm as it threated to crush her jaw into dust. She could also feel the barely restrained hatred simmering around her. The woman's nails elongate into claws that dug into Lucy's skin.

"You've got fire, kid, and I appreciate that. You're like your mom," the woman's voice darkened, "But make no mistake, little girl. I'm in charge here and I don't care how many bodies you have stuffed in a closet because I can guarantee you _I have more_."

She dropped Lucy and her chair, which slid back a foot with the force. Her already abused head knocked painfully against it and her bare feet slapped against the cold floor. "Who are you?" whispered Lucy. The fear she'd been pushing down since she gained consciousness filled her, overwhelming any urge she had to fight. "What do you want?"

The woman laughed again. "Now we're finally asking the right questions." She walked away towards a steel door, the dull metal shining in the moonlight streaming through the single window.

Industrial, thought Lucy, they were in an industrial building.

The woman opened the door and before she could close it behind her, she fixed Lucy with a vengeful glare. "My name's Kate, and I am going to kill Scott McCall."

* * *

"Scott! Scott, calm down!" said Stiles. He reached for his distraught friend only to have his hand batted away. Literally, it felt like someone had hit it with a metal baseball bat. Malia tensed beside him.

"Calm down? Stiles, that was Kate! How can I calm down? This is all my fault!" yelled Scott. He was pacing up and down the driveway. Everyone else was huddled around the front door. Liam and Mason were watching Scott in fascination. Neither of them had ever seen him this outwardly frantic.

"Scott, any of us could have stopped her. We're all to blame," reasoned Kira in a small voice. She gripped her katana tightly

"I'm the alpha! I'm supposed to keep everyone safe, not let you get kidnapped in my front yard!"

"Are we not going to talk about how Kate knew to kidnap Lucy in the first place? Because that would be a good place to start," said Stiles.

"It means she's been watching us," agreed Lydia.

"And Argent never did bother to call us and tell us that he caught his psycho sister. So what if he hasn't?" added Malia.

"She could have been back for ages," said Liam.

"She's been planning this, Scott," said Stiles. Scott kept pacing, shaking his head in frustration. He couldn't let Lucy get hurt. He'd promised his dad to look after her. Worse, he'd promised Lucy he'd protect her. She trusted him.

"Do you think she brought those things back with her?" asked Mason with wide eyes. Liam shuddered.

"The berserkers? I doubt it," answered Stiles, "Kate's smart. She never tries to kill us the same way twice."

"But maybe she'll try to kill us in the same _place_ twice," suggested Lydia. Scott stopped pacing. Everyone turned to her. "What?" she asked defensively.

"Like a home field advantage," mumbled Stiles in realization. "Lydia, you're a genius."

"If we have an idea where she's going then it will be easier to track Lucy's scent," said Scott slowly.

"So where would you go if you were back in the town where you had committed murder several times?" said Stiles.

* * *

 _And I'm going to kill Scott McCall._

That's what the woman, Kate, had said. And judging from the hatred in her voice, she meant it.

Lucy wasn't sure what Scott had done to deserve this woman's wrath, but she had a feeling it wasn't nearly as bad as anything Kate had done. Something like that was just too out of character to believe. Then again, she never thought Scott would be a werewolf either.

Werewolves. God, as if her life wasn't already messed up enough as it is, now she had to add werewolves to it? How long had this been going on? Did Melissa know about it? Did Agent Raf know? Was she the only freaking person who didn't know?

There was only one thing Lucy was sure of; she couldn't let Kate kill Scott. She wouldn't let it happen. She'd been too late to save her parents but she wasn't 12 this time. She would not let Scott die too. Not when he had so much left to explain.

Lucy studied the area around her. This woman was a pro. There was nothing remotely close to her that would allow her to break the leather cuffs. But maybe she wouldn't need anything sharp. Leather stretches. If she could struggle enough then maybe she could stretch the leather so that her hands could slip out. Then she could untie the ropes around her ankles. Of course, then Kate could hear her struggling and come to investigate. Then she'd mock Lucy and her meaningless, brave words.

The bitch was right. She'd have to wait until Scott came to find her. She needed to be rescued and that bothered her a lot more than it should. Especially considering she was tied to a chair and being guarded by a psychotic woman with green, glowing cat eyes.

Lucy rested her head on the back of the chair, rolling it to rest precariously along the edge. The last thing she needed was to aggravate the giant knot on the back of her head that was already screaming profanities. Well, it made her feel like screaming profanities. She closed her eyes, hoping the blackness would help soothe the vicious pounding in her skull. It did, slightly, but it also made her aware of how entirely alone she was in the big, empty warehouse. That's where she decided she was, a warehouse. It made the most sense. Serial killers and homicidal maniacs always kept their victims in warehouses, especially the abandoned ones. The stillness in the air and the musty scent agreed with her assumption. Except it wasn't her Kate wanted to kill.

 _I'm going to kill Scott McCall._

Lucy sat like that for an eternity, wasting away at the edge of the darkness. She could feel the soft hands of hysteria pulling at her, welcoming her into the familiar depths. It would be easy, so easy, for her to just let go now. But she couldn't. She had to save Scott. _  
_

A miniscule screech sounded from somewhere to her left. Lucy knew that if she could hear it, so could Kate. Scott had walked straight into the trap.

Resisting the urge to call out a warning— to scream and keep screaming until he left— Lucy searched the shadows. A glint of silver caught her eye. Kira was creeping along the edge of the room, an elegant sword held defensively in her grasp. She caught Lucy's eye and brought a finger to her lips.

Kira motioned behind her and two more figures crawled through a vent. Liam's eyes glowed gold in the dark and Stiles carried a metal baseball bat. Face grim, Stiles ran over and crouched behind her chair.

"We're going to get you out of here, Luce," he said. Lucy heard a click and the restrains around her left ankle tightened. Stiles was sawing away at the rope with a pocket knife. Lucy resisted the urge to ask him why Kira didn't just cut it with her sword.

She shook her head. "Leave me. Save Scott. This is all apart of her pla-"

Derogatory clapping filled the air. Kate strutted toward them. "Right on time, Stiles. Now tell me, where is our favourite alpha?"

"Late. We forgot to synchronize our watches," deadpanned Stiles. He continued sawing until the left rope fell away. He stood and quickly released the leather cuffs around her wrists while Kira and Liam made their way to his side. Kate watched them all with a predatory grin. She hadn't moved since she walked into the room.

"So you brought the fox and the pup. How precious," snarled Kate. She turned in a circle around herself, searching the room. "I know you're here, Scott," she taunted when no one responded, "Are you going to hide while I tear your beta and your pretty, little girlfriend to shreds? That doesn't sound like the great Scott McCall to me. Come out, come out wherever you are."

Liam shifted nervously behind her. Lucy could see Kira's hands shaking slightly. She wasn't the only one scared of Kate.

"You won't hurt them," said Scott as he walked in behind Kate, Malia at his shoulder. Mason and Lydia were slightly behind them. The predatory grin only grew as Kate turned slowly to face Scott.

"You're right," agreed Kate, "I'll kill them. Right after I kill you." She snarled and sprang towards Scott, whose eyes flashed red as he stepped forward to meet her. Kira sliced through the rope on Lucy's right leg and swung her sword into a more offensive position. But it was needless.

As the rope fell away, Lucy didn't think. She acted, leaping towards her captor as Kate clawed at Scott. Strength surged through her. Lucy jumped high, higher even than she had on the stairs. She landed on Kate's back, scrambling up to her shoulders and anchoring her legs in place. A white fog descended over her, blocking out everything but her goal.

 _Save Scott. Stop Kate._

Fight or flight instinct, they call it. Earlier had been flight, but this— this was fight.

Kate shook and scratched at her but Lucy simply squeezed tighter with her legs. Her hands moved as if by themselves, coming to rest on either side of Kate's head. Then she twisted. A sickening snap filled the air. Kate's body stilled beneath her then dropped. Lucy threw herself forward from the toppling mass and rolled to her feet.

The cold fog receded and the entire room seemed to still. The reality of what just happened sunk in. Lucy stared at her hands in horror. Someone was screaming and she realized it was her.

She looked up to see Scott staring at her. "You saved me," he said in total astonishment.

"I killed her," whispered Lucy.

The entire warehouse erupted into chaos.

* * *

 **So… whatcha think?**


	5. Chapter 5: Misfit Toys

**Happy Canadian Thanksgiving!**

 **I have literally had this written since I was in Mexico visiting my friend. It just took awhile to copy the first draft from my iPad to my laptop. But I had a series of reviews in the past few weeks that seriously made my conviction to write, so thank you.**

 **So Season 5A… who else _died_? And cussed Theo off the screen every time he showed his extremely attractive face.**

 **Oh man, I ship Mason and Brett so hard.**

 **That's pretty much all I have to say, other than Grade 12 is kicking my ass hardcore.**  
 **Except English. I love that class. And my teacher. She's amazing.**

 **Read. Review. Enjoy.**

 **PS: If they're are any people on here with suggestions for Canadian/English universities, shoot me a PM. I'm struggling to choose. I would totally go for an American school, too, if I had my SAT. Sadly I don't.**

* * *

 ** _Guest~_ Awe thanks. **

**_TomorrowWillBeBetter~_ Stiles and Lucy are going to have a bit of a complicated relationship. We all know how Stiles likes to hold grudges and the transformers/glue incident is not something to be taken lightly. But they are a lot alike and both consider Scott family so they're going to be forced into spending a lot of time together. But yeah, cute as hell. **

**_PrincessofFireflies~_ Sorry for the wait. Hope you like it!**

 ** _Teen Wolf Trash~_ Thank you so much! Hope Lucy stays up to your standards!**

 ** _Freyaaa~_ Your review was one of the ones that helped kick my ass into gear, so thanks for that! Oh, and parts 6 and 7 are on their way too...**

 ** _decoratingscheme~_ I just got a really bad mark on a math test and your review totally made up for it. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Here's part five, hopefully its what you've been waiting for. **

**_floralwoof~_ You definitely found this story at the right time. Unlike everyone else, you've only had a one day wait. Hope you like it!**

* * *

Lucy had been sitting on the cold metal bench in the vet's examination room for ten minutes. She was wearing a pair of sweatpants that were too large and a lacrosse hoodie that smelled like grass, sharpies, and boys body spray. She thought both of them were from the back of Stiles' jeep but she couldn't be sure. A blanket had been draped around her shoulders. Her feet were still bare but they weren't cold anymore, not with the cuffs of the pants falling over them.

She knew you were supposed to drown shock victims in blankets and keep them warm and assumed that this was an application of the same principle. Except Lucy didn't feel overly shocked. She felt numb.

Which, of course, could be the shock.

Everybody was rushing around her but Lucy barely noticed. It was like she was on a different plane of existence. She wondered if this is what its like to be a ghost; observing but never feeling.

Scott hadn't let her out of his sight since he'd scooped her off the floor in the warehouse and held onto her the whole car ride over. He'd carried her inside, too, before setting her on the examination table. Lucy hadn't protested. Scott was still alive. His brotherly presence was safe and comforting. But besides that, she hadn't spoken since her horrified whispers of _I killed her_. Lucy wasn't entirely sure if she could talk. She definitely didn't think she could walk. Thinking was difficult. All she could do was listen to the sickening crack of Kate's neck between her hands play on a loop in her head.

"Lucy? Lucy can you look up for me?" Lucy slowly looked up from her hands and met a pair of worried, green eyes. Lydia was holding a steaming mug out to her. "Here. The warmth helps with the numbness," she said knowingly as she handed it to her. Lucy took it and stared at the contents. It was a soft yellow colour and smelled herbal.

"Chamomile and ginger tea," the vet, Dr. Deaton or something like that, answered her unspoken question. "You've had a trying evening. It calms the nerves and the stomach."

"And here I was thinking a vet could only treat animals." Apparently Lucy could talk.

"Deaton's not just a vet," said Scott, "he's fixed me up so many time I've lost count."

"So you specialize in big dogs." The comment came out plainly, without the usual snark or sneer.

"See, she's fine," said Stiles, though he seemed to be reassuring himself more than anything, "she's making smartass comments again."

"Shut up, Stiles," Scott responded.

"I'm going to apply some salve to your wounds, Lucy, if that's alright to you. I don't want to risk an infection and it will heal the bruising faster than your body already is. Given the warehouse you were found in, I would recommend a tetanus shot but I need to know about any medications you're taking before I can administer it." His gaze was heavy and Lucy shrunk under it. He knew.

"Why would she be on medication?" asked Scott, disconcerted. Lucy lowered her gaze to the floor as her heart sank. Poor Scott had so much faith in her.

"Thorazine, its an anti-psychotic," choked out Lucy, "and paroxetine, it's an-"

"-anti-depressant," interrupted Stiles quietly, "Its for PTSD- post traumatic stress disorder."

Lucy grimaced internally. Of course Stiles would catch on fastest. Everyone stared at her but she didn't notice. The floor had an interesting tile pattern and she already knew what pity looked like.

"When was the last time you took either?"

Lucy shrugged off her building embarrassment. "Regularly? Three years ago. I usually take some before check ups for blood tests and stuff, but the last one was a month ago, after I got kicked out."

"Then I suppose you're safe for that tetanus shot." Deaton stood to prepare a syringe. Scott fluttered closer with Stiles right behind him.

"What the meds are for?" he urged. She looked straight past Scott to Stiles. His lips were pressed together in a thin line. He knew something more than he was letting on.

"Nightmares," Stiles answered for her. "It's for the nightmares and the insomnia."

"And the hallucinations," she shrugged, fighting off the panic in her chest. "Haven't you heard? I'm mentally unstable." She wrapped the blanket tighter around her, trying to hold in all the secrets.

"Is that why you were kicked out of so many schools?" asked Malia. Her blunt tone caught Lucy off guard. She'd been expecting pity or distrust. Lydia sighed slightly and Kira's face folded into a frown.

"And we've been doing so well," grumbled Stiles. Malia was still staring at her expectantly.

It is," she admitted, the truth strange on her tongue. She'd made up a fair few stories about her expulsions. She'd wanted to seem badass, not certifiable.

"What happened, Luce? How did you do it?" coaxed Scott. He slid onto the bench beside her. Lucy ignored him again, rolling the sleeve of the hoodie up over her elbow as Deaton approached. He administered the injection efficiently and Lucy didn't flinch. Needles had never bothered her.

"It wasn't the first time, was it?" Lydia's silky voice came in a whisper. Lucy squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't have to say another word. She didn't have to admit to anything.

But she wanted to. She wanted to get rid of this soul-crushing weight that had been slowly suffocating her since she was twelve.

She needed air.

"My parents weren't just murdered. They were kidnapped. _We_ were kidnapped." Lucy forced the words out even though every fiber of her being fought against them. No one but the agents on the case and the emergency workers who had responded knew. Well, and Melissa. Even Lucy's doctors had been told a watered down version.

"It took the FBI three days to find your family," said Stiles. Lucy wondered if he always knew more than he was supposed to. "And when they found them, you were the only one still alive."

Lucy took a solidifying breath and forced her emotions to take a hike. Forced herself to compartmentalize. To tell the story but not feel it.

"Two men took us. The first guy was shot. The FBI ruled it self-inflicted but it wasn't. How do you shoot yourself in the heart? It was the second guy, the one in charge. He hit the first guy by mistake when I tried to run away. The gun was aimed at my head. He missed me and then I broke his neck."

"Just like you did to Kate," supplied Kira.

"The FBI said it must have been an argument over the ransom money," continued Lucy, unable to stop talking now that she'd started. The truth wasn't being pulled from her; something inside her was pushing it out. Expelling it. "That the one guy killed the other over the money then shot himself when he realized he wasn't getting out of there alive. There was no other possible explanation. Its not like a 12 year old girl could kill a grown man three times her size with her bare hands."

"What about the schools?" asked Liam, keeping Lucy on track with her life story. He sounded curious but almost… understanding? What the hell would the lacrosse prince know about getting kicked out of school?

"I couldn't stay in them any longer, so I pulled a few stunts to get myself kicked out. Most have a three-strike policy but if you have a history it's more like one," Lucy explained casually. "At the last school I broke into the science department and stole some liquid nitrogen they keep around for the freshman ice cream experiment. I put it into the main fountain and it spread through the outdoor water supply. Froze all the fountains in the courtyard and busted a few pipes. Property destruction gets you kicked out the fastest." It was probably wrong but she smiled a bit. The other students had looked at her like she was a legend. Lucy was especially proud of that plan.

"I like you now and its not just because you can kill me," Stiles commented.

"Why didn't you tell anyone, Luce?" asked Scott. Lucy's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"And say what, Scott? Sorry Agent Raf, I can't stay here any longer because my dead roommate is haunting me? How about, I fell down three flights of stairs yesterday but I don't have a scratch on me, so don't worry about it? And those meds you replace every two months? Yeah I haven't taken them for years because they don't do shit all. Oh, and should I add that I _killed_ someone?" Lucy shook her head. "They would have sent me to Eichen House for sure."

Her chest heaved as she spoke, loud and fast and all at once. Scott blanched, staring at her wild eyes and quivering form. A gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder and Lucy flinched away. Lydia patiently repeated the action.

"No one would have believed her, not then. But it doesn't matter because we do now."

"I'm not sure I even believe what's going on!" exclaimed Lucy. She knew she was too loud but it didn't matter. That terrible fog was receding and she was glad for the extra volume. "I mean, you expect me to believe that you are all supernatural? That you have this little club for creatures-"

"Pack," corrected Scott, "we're a pack.

"The most unconventional pack ever, but a pack," added Stiles.

"We always have each others backs," finished Scott.

"I've been dropped into an episode of Vampire Diaries," remarked Lucy, dropping her head backwards, "Or Supernatural. No, wait. Pretty Little Liars: Supernatural edition. Yep, nailed it."

"See, this kid knows her references. Why do I hate you, again?" said Stiles.

"Transformers. Glue. Backpack," hinted Lucy.

"Right."

"Not the point," announced Lydia.

"What is the point?" asked Lucy.

"The point is that everything we've told you is true, no matter how hard it is to believe," answered Scott.

"That would be great if you had told me anything!"

"You think this is bad?" retorted Liam with a derisive snort. "I was attacked by this cannibalistic wendigo thing, nearly dropped off a roof and then bitten by Scott to stop me from falling off the roof. And then he kidnapped me, tied me up and left me in a bathtub."

Lucy was so surprised that she forgot her hatred for him. "Seriously?"

"That was only the first time he kidnapped me."

"The first time?"

"Yep."

"Scott?" she pointed at him.

"Scott."

Lucy turned to the boy in question. "You're really bad at this explaining thing, aren't you?"

"You have no idea," grumbled Stiles. Scott didn't bother to defend himself. With all the people assembled around the room, Lucy wondered if he'd be able to if he tried.

"Well, what is she?" burst out Mason. Lucy ducked her head and Lydia's grip on her shoulder increased slightly. "Oh my god, that sounded really insensitive," Lucy had a feeling he was blushing, "I didn't mean it like that, I swear, I just-"

"Give it up, Mace," mumbled Liam, nudging his friend from the side.

"I believe I can be of some more assistance," said Deaton. Lucy glanced up quickly and caught Scott's relieved face. He had no idea what do with whatever she was. "Lucy," asked Deaton, "these nightmares, they have to do with your friend? And how she died?" Lucy nodded even as the dread built up in her chest once again. "Can you tell me how?"

"Freak accident," mumbled Lucy, "Marley, she snuck out to see her boyfriend, and slipped on the way back. Cracked her head open on the edge of the pavement. Died instantly."

"And yet you blamed yourself?" prodded Deaton.

"I was the only one who knew what she was planning. She was a senior and I was a seventh grader, and she was, like, my idol. I didn't breathe a word, and then she died. Of course I blame myself," snapped Lucy.

"There's more to it," Lydia spoke softly from beside Lucy, "You felt something, didn't you?"

"I-I just," she swallowed abruptly, "Some part of me knew she wasn't coming back, that something bad was about to happen. I should have stopped her or told the house-moms. Done something. Anything that would mean she was still alive and that I wouldn't be here telling my tragic life story to a bunch of horror movie cast-offs."

"I picture myself as more of a dystopian/adventure kind of guy," quipped Stiles. Lucy felt more than saw the acidic glare Lydia fixed him with that caused Stiles to back away slightly.

"You don't think she'd a banshee, do you?" asked Mason. His brown eyes were almost glowing with excitement. Lucy wondered what the hell he turned into.

"No," said Deaton, "but there is something else. Have any of you heard of a virago?" he was greeted with eight blank looks.

"Isn't that like a zodiac sign or something?" guessed Stiles, "Like cancer and gemini and that crap?"

"That's a virgo. This is a virago."

"I don't hear a difference," declared Malia.

"A virago is a female warrior," explained Deaton, "They have abilities similar to those of a werewolf; speed, strength, enhanced senses, but they are able to tap into them most effectively when someone they care about is in danger." Deaton turned to Lucy.

"Kate Argent told you that she was going to kill Scott, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"And you felt the need to protect him?"

"Well, yeah," shrugged Lucy, "Just because he annoys me doesn't mean I want him dead."

"And you felt this need to protect your roommate as well?"

"Um," struggled Lucy. Yes, she had been anxious over both, but she had known Scott was going to die. The murderer had literally told her. Marley had just been this horrible foreboding hanging over her head. How was she supposed to put something like that into words?

"What does this have to do with anything?" asked Stiles. Lucy nodded in agreement.

"Viragos are protectors, often of specific places or even specific people. The more powerful viragos are often guardians of powerful beings. But if someone under a their protection dies, a virago will blame themselves, deservedly or not."

"You're saying that Lucy is supposed to protect me?" Scott sounded worried. Apprehensive. Lucy would have been insulted if she didn't felt the same way.

"Until we are sure, I'm going to assume that Lucy, much like the rest of you, protects Beacon Hills. That she saved you, Scott, most likely stems from your proximity as well as your personal connection.

"Now, what she needs is rest," announced Deaton, "So all of you will leave while I give her one final check. And, yes Scott, you may stay."

Scott plopped down on one of the stiff plastic chairs as everyone else filed from the crowded examination room. Lucy had a feeling that this was really a formality and that all the fairytale creatures were still listening in from the waiting room.

"So, Doc, what are you? And please say like witch doctor or magician or something cool," said Lucy as Deaton pressed the cool metal of the stethoscope against her back.

"I'm a veterinarian," he answered almost wryly, like this was a question he frequently received.

"That's… cool?"

"He's also a druid," supplied Scott, "and our emissary, which means he's kind of like our supernatural guide. Like today; he probably saved us five hours of searching through the Bestiary. He's also a really good vet." Scott gushed the last part and Deaton chuckled.

"And I'm afraid I cannot give you a raise, Scott. You're already the best paid high school intern in California."

"What about the others?" Lucy was almost begging.

"Just remember that we'll explain everything better later. It's a lot to take in, especially at first," he said encouragingly. "I'll start with me, I guess. And Liam. Werewolves make the most sense. So, like I tried to tell you earlier, Liam, he's my beta. And I'm the alpha, a true alpha. It means-"

"-It means that he hasn't killed anyone to get his power. It just sort of happened because he's so devastatingly heroic and handsome," interrupted Stiles. He shut the door behind him before anyone else could follow. "I was worried he was messing up this whole thing. Again."

"I'm pretty sure you came in here to enjoy my pain," grimaced Lucy.

"That too." He grinned, "And before you ask, I'm nothing; just plain human. Same goes for Mason. We just got stuck with high-maintenance best friends."

"Uh, who wanted to go looking in the woods for half a dead body?" teased Scott. He punched the smaller boys shoulder lightly. Stiles grimaced slightly and rolled his eyes. Lucy realized that all those little things that didn't make sense suddenly did.

"That's why you act like you've just been stabbed when Scott bumps into you. Because it actually hurts, not because you're being all over dramatic. And, and why Liam always complains about my music being too loud or when I shut the cabinets really hard in his face because he's eating all our food. Its because of heightened senses, right?"

"You catch on fast, kid," said Stiles. Lucy could have sworn he sounded kind of approving. Almost proud.

"No, I just thought I was crazier than normal for the past three weeks, not to mention the past three years. Its nice to know that its just flipping Halloween every full moon," she grumbled.

"Surprisingly not the first time we've heard that," responded Stiles. Lucy shook her head and the light-hearted air of the room dissipated. Lucy glanced to where Deaton was slowly cleaning up his equipment.

"If you're the man with all the answers, how did this happen to me?"

Deaton straightened up slowly. Scott and Stiles were watching him eagerly as well. "A viragos abilities are passed down through the bloodline, much like a banshee and born-wolves. But the powers must be known and taught, or there has to be a moment that awakens the instincts. Without something to activate the inner awareness the power will not manifest. Often times, a virago has no idea of her true ability."

"Are you saying that my parents' murder activated all this freakishness?"

"There is a possibility of it, yes," concluded Deaton. Lucy sighed. This was all too much.

"So my mom had to be a virago?" she asked.

"Not necessarily."

"And you lost me," said Stiles. Scott nodded in agreement. "I thought you said that viragos were only female?"

"They are, however, the abilities can lie dormant for generations, especially if the only offspring produced are male."

"Basically we have no idea where this comes from," huffed Lucy. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes and she swallowed deeply. She would not cry. Not now. Over everything to happen in the past twelve hours, this would not be what she cried over.

A comforting smile fell over Deaton's face. "Viragos aren't exactly common," he said softly, "and perhaps the Bestiary will shed some light on your lineage."

Lucy had no idea what the Bestiary was but she doubted it anyway. All the same, she was thankful for his kind words.

"What about the nightmares?" her voice was quiet. She was scared of the answer.

"Knowing why they happen should help," surmised Deaton, "but the only way for them to stop definitively is for you to come to terms with everything; to accept the death of your friend."

Something occurred to her. "Why haven't they been happening since I arrived in Beacon? I've actually been sleeping."

"Your guess is as good as mine," said Deaton. Lucy wished he had a better answer.

She jumped down from the table, the pooling material of the sweatpants acting as shoes. Scott and Stiles walked out ahead of her. In the doorway she paused.

"Thank you," she whispered. The vet dipped his head in acknowledgement but Lucy didn't know what for. She didn't really know what she was thanking him for, either. Patching her up, the reassurance that she wasn't crazy, or making her believe that this whole thing was almost normal.

More than likely, it was a little bit of everything.

* * *

 **This chapter was so, so hard to write. So many things had to be said and so much stuff had to be just perfect. This came as close as I could try.**

 **Shoot me a review with your thoughts.**

 **Parts 6 and 7 will probably be up soon, depends on my classes.**

 **So, I don't know if the medications actually work together but they are in fact an anti-depressant used to treat PTSD (paroxetine) and an anti-psychotic (thorazine) used to treat schizophrenia, particularly hallucinations. I took them from a medical website, so anyone with medical experience, sorry.**

 **Also, I've been waiting to say this but SCOTT AND KIRA'S I-LOVE-YOUs! I nearly died. So fricking adorable. Why did she have to leave?**

 **I'm p** **robs not going to follow season 5 but I haven't completely decided yet. We'll see how 5B ends. I have borrowed stuff (like the whole Liam and Mason thing from the beginning of the season, just imagine it like 6 months earlier.) And I love Hayden and how they tied in the whole Derek/Paige and Scott/Allison motif. My heart broke, even though I knew it was coming.  
So yeah, I'll see what I plan on doing. So far, I haven't decided.  
Liam/Lucy is still endgame in my eyes though. (Just like S** **tydia)**

 **If any one here has read the _Dead Is…_ series by Marlene Perez (which I totally recommend, especially the first 5) thats where I got the inspiration for a virago. I based it mostly off of her ideas and then expanded it to fit Teen Wolf. Its a really cool idea. **


	6. Chapter 6: Coping Mechanisms

**Get ready for a boatload of fluff, people.**

 **For the first time in weeks I don't have homework (except that Bio exam tomorrow, but whatevs) so I'm celebrating with an update.**

 **Read. Review. Enjoy.**

* * *

 ** _mercenary2.0~_ Quick enough update? **_[enter smiley face emoji]_

 _ **floralwoof~**_ **It's crazy how many different type of supernatural creatures can be picked out for the same premise, right? I really fell in love with the idea of a virago and I love how well it fits with Lucy. That you think its original is a total boost for my ego.** **Not this chapter, but the next, has a lot of Lucy and Liam. Its not exactly bickering, but they have a flow to their conversation thats really fun to write. Please, enjoy the fluff.**

* * *

Lucy didn't wake up screaming. She didn't wake up at all until Scott was crouched beside her bed with one hand pinning down her shoulders and the other restraining the hand attempting to wrap itself around his throat.

She curled her hands to her chest immediately and Scott released her. He was staring at her again with the worried expression that hadn't been wiped off his face since she'd moved in with them.

"Sorry," she muttered hoarsely. Her throat hurt from screaming. Idly, she wondered how loud she'd been. This was the third time she'd woken in the night though it was by far the worst. Hopefully she hadn't woken up Melissa. The nurse had only gotten back from her double shift at the hospital the first time Lucy had woken up from a nightmare.

"Don't be," said Scott, rising slowly. His hair was smushed to one side and he had dried drool on his chin but he was awake and alert. "Happens to all of us."

"How do you do it?" she asked hopelessly, "Because I've been trying for years and nothing helps. That medication was useless and melatonin stopped working ages ago."

"You want to know the truth?" Scott perched himself on the edge of the bed. "I sleep in my mom's room."

Lucy couldn't help it; she laughed. In the past three weeks she'd witnessed Scott and Melissa's ridiculously close bond but all she could picture was red-eyed, wolfed-out Scott trying to curl up in his mommy's bed and it was funny. Really, _really_ funny.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," he admitted but he wasn't embarrassed. "If it's bad enough I'll try to crawl in with her, but most of the time I'll just doze off in the chair. I feel better knowing she's safe."

"What else works for you?" inquired Lucy, shifting over slightly. She didn't want him to leave. Scott radiated comfort. Taking the hint, he pulled himself farther onto the bed and settled in beside her. "I usually do homework until I'm too exhausted to think straight. Sometimes I read."

"You read? As in books?" teased Lucy. She leaned into his side.

"Hey, I read!" he exclaimed. "I read a lot last summer, though I haven't been doing that as much lately. I should really start again."

"What stopped you?" asked Lucy.

"Everything. Life. There were a rough couple of months, from the beginning of the school year until, well, now. We lost a few friends. Erica, Boyd, Aiden. _Allison_." His voice choked up a bit and Lucy's mind flashed back to Kate. She had a feeling this was the same Allison.

"Who was she?"

"My ex-girlfriend. But she was more than that. She was a good person and a good friend. I think I'll always love her. Mom says you never lose your first love."

Lucy wanted so badly to ask what happened but couldn't bring herself to do it. The utter sorrow in Scott's eyes was enough to stop her. "What was she like?" she asked instead. Scott's face brightened considerably.

"Incredible. She came from a family of werewolf hunters but she didn't know about it until after we started dating, which was coincidently right after I was bitten. She was amazing with all sorts of weapons but the bow was her favourite. She completely changed her family's code. Most hunters go by ' _We hunt those who hunt us.'_ Allison changed that. The Argents go by _'We protect those who cannot protect themselves.'_ Of course the real version is in French but still. She saved mine and Stiles' asses so many times."

"She sounds amazing," said Lucy. Scott sighed next to her. "She was."

"So what else do you do to fall asleep?"

"Hot chocolate since I don't like tea and Mom thinks decaf is redundant."

"It is," agreed Lucy.

"I'll take your word for it," he smiled. "And what I've found works really well are old movies."

"Old movies?"

"Yeah like those ones on that specific channel, all made in the 60s and stuff. They have no plot so they're nice to fall asleep to."

"'Cause nothing bad ever happens in them?"

"Exactly."

Lucy laughed at his careless grin. It was so much better than the apprehensive frown he'd been giving her after they got home from the animal clinic. She settled down deeper into the blankets.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked. Scott wrapped an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. Lucy thought it was unfair that Scott was an only child. He deserved a whole army of little siblings to take care of.

"It's just her face over and over again. Just her screaming at me that I'm a murderer." She sucked in a little breath, trying to chase Kate's creepy green eyes out of her mind. "I'm not sure I can handle it, Scott. I _killed_ someone. Again. How can I live with that?"

"You can." He said it with so much conviction that Lucy knew he must be faking it.

"I don't think so."

"You will," he said slowly, "because giving up is not an option."

"What if I can't do this? Save people. What if I'm only meant to kill?" Lucy scrunched the blanket up in her hands. "I don't think I can be a hero, not like you and Stiles. I mean, you had to know that Kate took me to get you. And Stiles only had a baseball bat to protect himself from _it_ — I mean, her."

Scott ran a hand through his messed up hair. "We're not heroes, Lucy. Sometimes we get our friend hurt. Sometimes they die. We're just two teenage boys who got in over our heads. Only thing is, we decided that no one else was going to get hurt or die because of it. I usually have no idea what I'm doing. Actually, I always have no idea what I'm doing."

"I've been taking the easy way out for years, Scott. What makes you think I won't do it now?"

"Because you've got us and we're not going to let you. We take care of each other, Luce. It's what we do. And I know that you're more than a killer. You're a protector, Deaton said so."

They sat silently, Lucy leaning more and more into Scott. She'd always appreciated being an only child, but she had to admit that having Scott around was a really nice feeling. Dependable.

"Thanks, Scott," she whispered. Her breathing slowed and her eyes were fighting to stay open.

"For what?"

"Being you. Being here." Her eyes were getting too heavy to open again.

"Anytime, Luce. Anytime. We're all here for you."

She could hear the smile in his voice as she drifted off.

* * *

 **Scott and Lucy sibling fluff. Couldn't you just die?**

 **Plus, when I wrote this I was def having some Allison feels.**

 **I am loving Wild Ones by Bahari from the Teen Wolf soundtrack. It was like episode 502 or 503 I think and it goes with this chap and the next super well.**

 **These last two chapters have had a lot of dialogue in them. The next one is like that too, but it's got a hella ton of angst. It should be up probably by the end of the week.**


	7. Chapter 7: Not All Monsters

**Guys… Guys I am so excited for you guys to read this. It's, like, one of the cutest/deepest/fluffiest combination I've ever written. Even more so than the last chapter.**

 **It will be a while until the next update because I have a bunch of others stories to work on. I also have no idea what's coming next. I mean, I have ideas but no definite plans. But there is more to come. I always finish what I start, it just might take me a long, long time.  
But between us, I think it will be a lot of character interaction before any action starts. I'm sticking with Scott's statement of "it's been a quiet 6 months."**

 **Thanks to everyone who favourited and followed the story. You guys are pretty awesome.**

 ** _"Not all monsters do monstrous things"_ is literally my favourite quote from Teen Wolf. **

**Read. Review. Enjoy.**

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 ** _floralwoof~_ Thank you so much for reviewing, it means a lot. Honestly, Scott is the biggest cinnamon roll out there. And Scott and Lucy sibling feels are my second favourite type of feels. This chapter kind of displays my fave feels. If you think that's vague, it's so on purpose. Read on...**

* * *

The ticking of the clock was starting to drive Lucy nuts. Lack of sleep was making her jumpy and more irritable than usual. The nightmares flickered behind her eyelids even while she was awake.

Scott had tried to help, distracting her with the story of how he was bitten (it was _all_ Stiles' fault) and explained stuff, like what the hell a kitsune was. The two of them had spent most of the previous day on the couch watching the classic movie channel. Lucy hadn't slept much and when she did, Scott woke her up from her own screaming and Kate's lifeless eyes.

Lucy scrunched down in her hard, posture-correcting seat, tuning out the incessant ticking noise and the squeak of Liam shifting in his chair. The teacher was explaining the exact function and location of a chloroplast but all Lucy could hear were the indistinguishable whispers surrounding her. Her fingers tightened around her pen as she determinedly studied the chicken-scratch diagram of a plant cell on the whiteboard. As she watched, the hasty scribbles changed, molding into a falling body with a crooked neck. Lucy sucked in a deep breath and pulled her hood down farther on her head. The mirage dissipated but the feeling of overwhelming terror didn't.

* * *

Liam had to admit that for being kidnapped and then killing someone not even two days prior, Lucy was handling being back at school pretty well. At least that's what he thought before she started to hyperventilate.

It started so quietly that he didn't even notice. She sat behind him in Biology and even though he didn't particularly like her, he found himself listening to her heartbeat, making sure she was okay. It wasn't until Mason, who had a spot at the back of the room, sent him a text asking if Lucy seemed off to him that Liam heard it. Lucy's heart rate had increased so gradually that it was hard to tell. The scent of anxiety coming off of her, however, was so obvious that he didn't know how he had missed it. It was an unpleasant scent, hard to explain. Like a mix of fear and anger and loathing.

Liam twisted a bit in his desk and his chair squealed again. He winced as the harsh sound grated against his eardrums. Lucy hadn't even reacted. Weird. Normally she jumped down his throat whenever that happened. She didn't seem to realize that it bothered him just as much as it did her.

Lucy looked about as good as she smelt, which was to say, terrible. She was staring straight ahead at the board but her pale green eyes were cloudy and the shadows under her eyes were so purple they were black. Her normally tan face was pale enough that her freckles stood out clearly. One of her hands was fisted in her lap while the other gripped her pen so tightly Liam could hear the plastic straining.

"Lucy?" he whispered. Her fingers clenched around the pen. Liam's eyes flickered to Mason. He was watching helplessly from his own seat and shrugged. Liam checked over his shoulder before leaning closer to Lucy. "Are you feeling okay?"

Her cloudy eyes snapped to his before flickering away just as quickly. "I'm fine," she hissed. Her grip on the pen tightened remarkably. She followed Liam's gaze to the pen in her hand and dropped it quickly. "Buzz off."

Liam retreated quickly but caught Mason's eye. The both knew it.

Something was definitely off with her.

* * *

Not quite five minutes after Liam's not-so-subtle questioning, Lucy had to admit that she was, in fact, not fine. She was shaking and her breathing was shallow. Every time she glanced down at her hands they were coated in blood. No matter how hard she blinked it wouldn't disappear.

She knew it was all in her head but it wouldn't go away. And it was becoming more and more real by the second. She relatively held it together until she looked to the desk beside her and was greeted by a corpse. That's when she lost it.

Lucy jolted upwards abruptly, sending her chair screeching back and her desk into Liam's chair. She stood wide-eyed, staring at the room suddenly filled with dead bodies instead of 15 year olds. Then she bolted.

Out the door, down the hall. Stumbling, Lucy fell through the bathroom door and collided with the paper-towel dispenser. She sunk to the floor, her arms wrapping around her head. She curled her knees up to her chest and tried to breathe through the panic. A sob shuddered in her throat.

"It's all in your head, Lucy, just think it through." She tilted her head back against the wall and tried to still her shaking hands. "Its not real."

* * *

As most of the class watched Lucy's mad break from the classroom Mason and Liam were having a silent conversation. At Mason's insistent glare, Liam stood and garnered most of the class' attention.

"She was out sick yesterday. She probably had to, like, throw up or something. I should probably help her to the nurse. Or something."

Without waiting for a response he grabbed his backpack and Lucy's and chased after her.

Her scent was easy to follow, as mixed with fear and desperation as it was. Liam traipsed down an empty hallway. Hopefully if a teacher stopped him it would be Ms. Martin or Mr. Nakamura. They would understand. Well, Kira's dad would. Lydia's mom would at least be sympathetic.

Lucy's scent trail led to the girls' washroom and Liam shifted nervously outside the door.  
This was weird. Why did he have to be the one to help and not Mason? Could he just wait out here? No, that was stupid. He could hear her sobbing from the other side of the door. Did he knock? Or just go in?

The vibration of his phone took away some of the indecision. It was a text from Stiles. Apparently Scott could hear Lucy crying and it was stressing him out. That meant it was probably stressing Stiles out too. Liam responded carefully.

 _'Lucy had an outburst. Me and Mason were there. Trying to help now. Tell you more later.'_

He frowned at the message and sent it anyway. Hopefully they would stay in class. Lucy would probably blame him for their coddling.

He set the backpacks against the wall and hesitantly pushed the door open. "Lucy?"

She was huddled up against the wall, one hand tangled in her hair and legs curled up to her chest. The scent of despair hit him like a brick wall. Quietly, Liam sat down next to her. He bent his legs up and rested his elbows against them. He didn't try to comfort her, just sat. Slowly her sniffling stopped.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Mason made me," he shrugged, "And Scott's worried too. He's probably trying to listen for you right now."

"Creepy."

"You never get used to it."

Lucy grimaced. "Great. But seriously, why are you here? If Mason's the one who's worried."

"I didn't get it either but now I do," answered Liam, resting his head against the tile.

"Care to share?" grumbled Lucy. Liam let the image of Scott in the berserker armour flash through his mind.

"You're not the only one who Kate scares the living daylights out of. A couple of months back she tried to kill all of us. She came really, really close."

"This supposed to make me feel better? Hurrah, I killed the villain?" she snapped at him before once again running a frustrated hand through her already tangled hair.

"Can you shut up for like five minutes?" asked Liam forcefully. Lucy's mouth snapped shut and her eyes were suddenly murderous. Strangely Liam preferred it to the fragile cloudiness of earlier. "So Kate, she had these… bodyguards, I guess. They're called berserkers. Giant monsters made of bear bones and magic and I hate them. I was terrified of them. Honestly, I still am. One almost killed me and Kira, and I didn't react well. I saw them everywhere; the dark corners of the lacrosse field and the shadows of my room. In my nightmares. And I couldn't sleep. I had bad enough anger issues before I was bitten, and then they got worse. Then I became sleep-deprived and scared of everything that moved. Sound familiar?"

Lucy grunted but didn't say anything. She'd taken his plea for silence seriously.

"I was walking around half-dead and jumping at every little noise— refusing help from everyone, might I add— when the guy I hate most in the world snapped me out of it."

"What he do?" she asked, picking at her nails. Liam laughed bitterly.

"Knocked me on my ass on the lacrosse field. Told me to man up and how lucky I was to have Scott as my alpha."

"Is that what you're going to do to me?"

Liam laughed again, this time softer and shaking his head.

"Nah, but I was thinking of making you sit with us at lunch. Instead of hiding away in the library like you usually do. Mason is going to ask you all sorts of stupid questions. Scott will probably come over to mother you."

"Think I can't handle tough love?" Her spiteful question was softened by the lack of venom in her voice.

"I think that you're too used to dealing with things on your own and if we're not careful we're going to have to start calling you Stiles," he replied solemnly. A small smile peeked from the corner of Lucy's mouth. Something in Liam relaxed.

They sat silently, both enjoying not being cooped up in class. Lucy had barely lasted 15 minutes before leaving and another 10 had probably passed. Mason would be ditching class sometimes soon. Mr. Coels didn't care what his students did once he was done teaching.

Liam felt Lucy sigh next to him but she fell silent again. He didn't mind. This was actually kind of nice.

* * *

Lucy watched Liam leave the bathroom and return just as quick with their bags. He tossed them under the sink and sat on the counter. Lucy followed suit. Thinking about it, anything beat sitting on the floor of a bathroom.

She was oddly touched by him running after her. His and Mason's concern wasn't something she expected.

"You know, I sort of dislike you less," she sighed.

"Damn it, I'm down to one mortal enemy now. Thanks a lot." He was smirking and Lucy realized that she was too.

"So who is this guy, the one who laid you out flat?"

"Brett Talbot." Liam said the name like some people say public outhouse. "He's a werewolf from another pack. We used to be friends when I went to school with him, back when I had no idea about any of this stuff."

"Brett Talbot? Seriously? I went to school with him in, like, kindergarten. But doesn't he got to..." she trailed off, looking at Liam carefully. His Tiffany-blue eyes shifted around the empty bathroom.

"Devenford, yeah." Liam confirmed. "I did too, after my mom married the good doctor in the seventh grade. Until last year." He glanced around uncomfortably. "Let's just say that you and I have more in common than you think."

Lucy felt like the entire world has been thrown into a brighter light. There was no way he meant what she though he did. "No way."

"I forgot you didn't know," he admitted. "I've had anger issues for as long as I can remember. Its part of the reason I switched from the public to the private in the first place. It wasn't until last summer that I got a diagnosis. Intermittent Explosive Disorder."

Lucy had heard of it. "Ouch."

"Yeah. As Stiles repeatedly says, I am a walking time bomb with super-strength."

"So what happened?" She wasn't just morbidly curious. Lucy genuinely wanted to know. She'd always gotten kicked out on purpose. She couldn't imagine doing it by accident. Well, actually she could.

"I'd gotten a few yellow cards playing lacrosse and my coach benched me. Brett and a few of the other guys had been rubbing me the wrong way since the start of the season and I'd gotten a few detentions in my coach's class for stupid things, like arguing out of turn. Being benched was like the icing on the cake." He seemed to struggle for words. Lucy had a feeling that he hadn't explained it this in depth to anyone besides Mason. She could understand that. She knew why he was telling her, the other prep-school reject. She would understand more than most people.

"I just- just snapped, I guess. I've tried so hard to explain it but no one understands. It was like I had been just under the boiling point for weeks, suppressing all the anger I was embarrassed to feel. And I just let loose. I took a crowbar to my coach's car and made sure he knew it was his fault. I think Stiles has the picture on his phone."

Lucy was amazed. She'd seen Liam react to ridiculous things _("Can you please stop sharpening your pencil every 30 seconds? It's annoying.")_ but this was something else.

"That's- that's genius. I can't believe I never thought of that."

Liam looked at her, shocked, before he started to laugh. Before she knew it, Lucy was too. All the anxiety that had been bottled up inside her melted away as she leaned into Liam's shoulder. Tears pricked at her eyes but this time it was from the laughter tearing at her gut.

"No one has ever reacted that way before. Ever. My parents, they were horrified. My old teammates, especially Brett, started treating me like dirt. Mason asked me if I felt better and tried to make me feel like less of a psychopath. But no one has ever-"

"Felt like every bad thing they have ever done wasn't up to par? Because liquid nitrogen has nothing on that."

"Yours was smarter."

"Yours would have been so much more therapeutic."

"Believe me, it was. For about 30 seconds. Then I realized what I'd done."

"Pay for it?"

"Every penny. There was also a school board mandated psych evaluation. I wasn't expelled immediately but I was suspended for two weeks and wasn't allowed to come back for the next school year. I was kicked off the lacrosse team. Devenford is a small school. Everyone either hated me or was scared of me, or both. I was scared of myself. Worst two months of my life. You know, until I was bitten by my new school's lacrosse captain and put on a supernatural blacklist."

"Your teammates sound like douchebags."

"They were. I was too, probably. Mason won't tell me."

"You probably were."

"Thanks."

"My pleasure." Lucy realized she'd been leaning into him and straightened up instantly. Liam cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Mason should be rushing down the hall any second now. Coels has to be done preaching by now."

Lucy hummed in agreement and stared at the entrance. Luckily no girls had come in. She hoped no one was in the hallway when they left. That would be fun to explain. Of course, everyone thought she was out with the flu the day before. Lucy could say he'd been holding her hair.

The silence was just starting to become slightly awkward when Lucy spoke. "You know, what you did, it doesn't make you crazy. I know crazy. That's not it. That's angry. I know that too. So, you're not psycho."

"Not a monster." He muttered like he was repeating someone else's words. "Same goes for you. What you did, you can't help it. It's your instincts and if you hadn't done it, one of us would have died. You saved us. That doesn't make you a monster. "

Lucy smiled gratefully. His words washed away some of the uneasiness. Scott had told her pretty much the same thing but this was different. This was someone who hadn't known her since she was born and who didn't give out second chances like candy. Liam understood because he felt the same way, struggled with the same feelings.

"There you guys are!" a voice echoed into the bathroom. Mason locked the door behind him. The worried furrow in his forehead was the only thing marring his otherwise brilliant smile. "You okay?" Mason asked. He sat down on the other side of Lucy, mindful of the sink.

"Better now. Sorry I freaked you out."

Mason shrugged. "That's nothing compared to what Liam's put me through. You're good." Lucy almost laughed at his nonchalance. Nothing fazed this kid. It was a universal joke that he was completely human.

Mason leaned into her and her other shoulder knocked into Liam's. Normally being this close to people would make her claustrophobic but now it was reassuring. They sat on either side of her, like pillars. Bodyguards. Maybe she had judged them both a bit too fast.

"If you want to skip PE fourth block with Coach, I can write you a doctor's note," offered Liam.

"I don't think that's how that works." Lucy looked at him funny and Mason laughed. Liam grinned a little through his eye roll.

"No, my dad's a doctor. He actually works with Ms. McCall. I can do his signature well enough to fool Coach."

Lucy wondered how often Scott took advantage of that. "I think I'll tough it out. I don't feel as… haunted as I did before."

"Good choice of words," said Mason, "Makes you seem less like you suffered a psychotic break."

"Gee, Mace, just what every girl wants to hear."

"Didn't you get the memo? I'm gay."

"She'd have to be blind, deaf, and stupid to miss that, Mace," Liam rolled his eyes.

"What was your excuse?" goaded Mason. Liam stuttered.

"Shut up."

Mason wrapped an arm around Lucy to pat his blushing friend on the shoulder condescendingly. "It's okay, Liam. Your gaydar just sucks. Besides, some people have boring friends. I'm lucky. I've had the misfortune of meeting you two. I guess I only make friends with the kids who have major issues."

Lucy laughed grudgingly. Liam shoved Mason hard enough that he almost slid off the counter and Lucy's laughter doubled at Mason's surprised swearing.

Yeah, maybe these two weren't as bad as she thought they were.

* * *

 **Sometimes you just need to channel Liam the delicate little flower who says things like "I fell in a hole."**

 **That and I just love Liam's character. He's so sweet for a kid who's literally known for his violent outbursts and I feel like his advice is what will really help settle Lucy after everything that has happened.**

 **I also adore his and Mason's friendship. It's like the Scott/Stiles brothers-for-life thing (which I hate season 5A for ever doubting) and Jackson/Danny for the total amount of acceptance and nonchalance for sexual preference and how Liam/Jackson are hot-heads and Mason/Danny are total sweethearts who play major roles without even realizing it.**

 **And Mason is just my fave anyway.**

 **So, yes, Mason, Liam, and Lucy are going to be the three musketeers now that Lucy and Liam are getting over their initial dislike for each other. And, yes, Mason will totally ship them… eventually. And his [enter: _my_ ] ship name for them is "Prep-School Rejects" Any comments? Or other suggestions? **

**Seriously guys, I really love reviews**


	8. Chapter 8: Heirlooms, PART 1

**Yes, yes. It's been lifetimes. But I'm finally feeling back on track for this story (for all my stories really). And I re-watched all the seasons (except 5b and 6 so no spoilers please) so my love for Teen Wolf has once again been renewed. And I want to finish this one because I have a really great idea for a different TW story.**

 **This chapter will be posted in two parts because otherwise it's super long. I tried to get it at the most natural cut off.**

 **Read, Review, and Enjoy!**

* * *

 **To _FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff, staywoc, theorakens_ ~ Thank you so much for the reviews. I'm glad you all love this story and I hope you can forgive the long absence. **

**_agirlwholovestoread~_ Liam is so adorable. I wish boys like him were _real_. He's such well-created character and I love getting to write him. **

**_Aika~_ Awe, thank you. Honestly, sometimes its hard to find the perfect story, and I'm so excited that you think this is one of the good ones! I hope you like this chapter, despite its decided lack of Liam. **

**_Halfcent~_ You're review honestly made me so proud of myself, so thank you for helping me puff up like a peacock. Scott and Liam's relationship is one of my favourite parts of Season 4. I'm really hoping to give Lucy a lot of plot to help her character develop, and involve all the other characters as much as possible. Honestly, interactions with the other characters are my favourite part of this. I'm hoping to get my crap together enough that I will update more frequently, especially since I have a vague timeline and list of ideas for this story. Enjoy!**

* * *

After the way her past week had gone, Lucy wasn't quite sure why she thought it was a good idea to go to the Farmhouse.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Scott echoed her thoughts, yelling a bit over the rumble of the motorcycle's motor.

"I'll be fine," she yelled back, tucking her blue (recently purchased) helmet under her arm. "I'll text you when I want to be picked up."

"Lucy-"

"Just go, Scott. Everything's fine. Shoo!" she waved him off. As his bike turned into nothing but a dust trail on the old gravel road, she let out a sigh of relief. Finally, she was alone— for the first time in three days.

It wasn't that she wasn't grateful— far from it— but between Scott, Stiles, Mason, and Liam, she hadn't been completely on her own since her nap Wednesday afternoon. It was Sunday. And Friday had been the day of her psychotic break in class, so she had to be fine by now, right?

 _Right?_

It didn't matter. She was alone, blissfully alone, and if she wanted to spend that alone-ness sorting through her dead parents' stuff, then so be it. After everything— especially that bit about befriending _Liam Dunbar_ , of all people— she was allowed to be a little emotionally unstable. A little nostalgic.

God, being a teenager sucked.

Being a teenager in Beacon Hills really sucked.

Being a teenager in Beacon Hills who was stuck with Scott McCall really, _really_ sucked.

Lucy turned to the whitewashed house behind her. It was old and sprawled up and outwards. The black trim was peeling a bit around the window frames. The large stained-glass window caught the early afternoon sun and winked at Lucy.

Home.

The bright scarlet door stood out like a drop of blood. The key in Lucy's palm burned. She hadn't been inside since she was 10 years old. Even when her stuff from the apartment in San Francisco had been moved here she'd refused to go any farther than the porch. Agent Raf had to handle it all. Not that anyone blamed her. She was just a scared little girl whose parents had just been murdered. Now, she was a just a scared little girl on a mission.

The door opened smoothly. A cyclone of dust kicked up as Lucy stepped onto the rug. The entire place was coated in a layer of dust. She had a lot of work to do.

Lucy skipped past the living room and the kitchen with barely a glance. She headed straight for the stairs. She was searching for something— she didn't know what exactly, but something— and her parents' old room was the best place to start. It was the one room in the house she wasn't supposed to go in without permission. Where else would she look for information they kept from her?

Lucy slid the sleek black headphones out of her backpack and over her ears before plugging them into her phone and turning the volume up too loud to be healthy. She felt rather than heard the creak of the wooden stairs. Her parents' room was the furthest down the hall. It's door, much like the others, was wide open to keep the empty house from getting overly musty. In Lucy's opinion, it wasn't working. Abandonment seeped into the air. It made her feel a little guilty that a company only came to clean and do maintenance once a year.

She checked the dresser first and then the drawers of the nightstands. Empty, except for a few old t-shirts and pads of paper. Even the sheets of paper were blank. She shut the drawers harder than necessary and, with an exasperated growl, turned her attention to the old wardrobe in the corner. It was some type of heavy, dark wood that looked about as old as the house. The doors were carved, the handles slim. When she swung the doors open, the hinges barely creaked. And there, sitting in the top of the otherwise empty wardrobe, was Lucy's mom's jewelry box.

Gingerly, she pulled it down and rested it on the chest of drawers. The lacquered wood surface was slick to the touch under so much dust. Lucy eyed the delicate catching mechanism. Something in the bottom of her stomach squirmed.

How badly did she need answers? How badly did she want them? How could a secret as huge as the entire existence of the supernatural be kept in a small, antique box?

She flicked the catch. As the top popped up, she caught sight of the only pieces of jewelry nestled in the cream, satin lining. The first was a necklace, or more particularly, the Tiffany's key necklace her dad had given her mom for their first anniversary. The silver still shone and the diamonds still sparkled even in the dim room. Something in Lucy cracked a little. Her mom had hardly taken it off, loved it more than even her engagement ring or her wedding band. Lucy slipped the chain over her head, and tucked the charm under her shirt. It rested against her skin, the cold metal burning a hole into her sternum.

Lucy inspected the second piece of jewelry in the box, a ring her mother had also never taken off. It was simply elaborate, only a band, but it was wide and the metal scrolled elegantly. Tiny black jewels were embedded in it. She spent hours as a kid staring at its spiraling pattern, watching her mom twist it around her pointer finger, and trying to figure it out. The silver was slightly tarnished but it only made it more interesting to look at, more like a generations-old heirloom. Leaves and flowers tangled together with what she thought were little pieces of obsidian. Lucy had always pretended to see arrows and eyes scattered around in the vines and curls. A letter was hidden in the filigree, too, and Lucy could make out a general shape but not the actual letter. It looked like a "G" but it was an heirloom from her mother's family— it couldn't be for Goodwin. Sometimes she thought it was a "Q" or a "C" but neither made sense. "O" was her best guess, for Ortiz, but her mom never confirmed nor denied it.

Looking back, Lucy realized her parents had brushed off a lot of her questions.

Lucy tried to slip the ring onto her middle finger but it only fit onto her pointer. Funnily enough, there it felt like it had been molded specifically for her, not for her great-something grandmother.

Lucy closed the now empty jewelry box and returned it to the wardrobe. She knew that her mother's other jewelry was somewhere around here but she wasn't interested in that stuff. Lucy didn't even like jewelry. She kept her parent's wedding rings in her a box in her bedside table but that was it. She didn't know why she was taking the key necklace or the old ring.

On her way back down the stairs she ignored her old room completely. Pretty blue walls and lace curtains weren't exactly what she was looking for. Then again, neither were a necklace and a ring. Lucy wasn't feeling very optimistic about being able to find… something. Anything. Some godforsaken sign that she wasn't becoming paranoid and that her childhood had actually been shrouded in shadows.

She stomped her way back to the kitchen, intent on running the tap and clearing the pipes enough to get a glass of water. Lucy ran over the checklist on her phones of things she needed to do and places to search. The study was next but that would take days, maybe weeks. Her parents had both been paperwork people. Before that was the attic, another daunting task, or she could check the random spare rooms. Lucy was caught up in mulling over her tasks and she almost missed the flash of red in her peripherals. She froze and waited for the danger-induced thrum in her veins.

Nothing. Okay, weird.

She leaned farther through the kitchen's arched doorway. Nothing. Maybe she was going crazy. Maybe she should have let Scott stay with her.

Lucy tiptoed to the sink and turned it on. She had to pry at it with a butter knife before it willingly loosened. She pulled the headphones down around her neck. The bass echoed into the air and she could plainly make out the singer's words. The tinny sound didn't make her feel any less on edge.

"Good going, Luce," she berated herself, "You finally find out you're not crazy and then you start seeing things."

"And you're talking to yourself. Great."

Lucy jolted and stifled a scream. She chucked the nearest thing at the voice. It turned out to be the butter knife which Stiles had to duck, rather theatrically and with a yelp, to avoid. "What the hell, Lucy?" he yelled, starring at the knife sticking out of the wall, "Were you trying to kill me?"

"Were you trying to get yourself killed?" she fired back. Her heart was working overtime. What the hell was he thinking? "You don't just sneak up on people!"

"I said your name, like, twelve times," Stiles argued, meaning he'd said it maybe twice. Lucy waved sharply at the headphones around her neck.

"Oh. Well I've been in the house waiting for you to acknowledge me for like ten minutes, so…"

"I didn't hear you."

"Clearly." Stiles' eyes wandered back to the butter knife. "Nice to see you have a self-preservation mode."

"That wasn't virago," retorted Lucy. If it had been, he'd be dead. "That was daughter of a federal agent."

He shrugged red-plaid covered shoulders. "That's what I meant."

Lucy sighed. "What are you even doing here?"

"Scott told me he dropped you off, _by yourself,_ and I told him he was an idiot and drove directly here." His eyes drifted around the sunny room. "Leaving you out here by yourself is a liability."

"I am not a liability," snapped Lucy, "And I'm not a baby. I don't need to be watched, Stiles. Go home."

"Yeah, ha, no. No way you are staying here alone. You killed someone, like, four days ago. Until we know you can control whatever this is, you're a huge liability. For that matter, Liam's a huge liability since he's basically the Hulk with sharper teeth. Scott used to be a liability with an insane crush. Mason is a walking mouth of a liability. I'm a painfully human liability. We're all liabilities, Lucy. It's why we stick together, see? So, I'm not leaving until I can drop you off at home."

"I am home," challenged Lucy, arms gesturing to the empty house.

"You're real home, you little twerp. With Scott and Melissa. And I'm staying for dinner." Stiles pulled the knife out of the wall and tossed it on the counter. "Now get over yourself and turn the water off. We're going to pick through some dusty shit."

"Whatever," grumbled Lucy, but she didn't bother to fight it. Painfully human or not, Stiles was the best person for the job. He was basically built for snooping and digesting information. "I was heading up to the attic."

"Lead the way." Hopefully he brought his Adderall.

* * *

"How much junk does your family have?" Stiles' wide eyes and slack jaw ate up the room and its piles of files and old furniture.

As far as attics go, it was a pretty neat one. The study was far more of a train-wreck. In here, the files were all contained to separate antique chests and ornamental baskets. The artifacts scattered around the room were all tagged for the corresponding logbooks that sat piled on an elaborate side table.

"My dad's family lived in this house for three generations and my mom was a museum curator. How much do you think?"

Lucy's eyes scanned the room anxiously. She was never allowed in the attic. Too many museum artifacts she could break and too many precarious files she could knock over.

"I'll take right, you take left?" suggested Stiles. Lucy shrugged and started towards the far corner.

Nearly fifteen minute later she hadn't found anything but a few empty rat-traps and innumerable old papers from the museum with her mom's authorizations. _Diana Ortiz Goodwin_ was scrawled on the bottom of all the pages. Her mom's signature was sharp and spidery compared to the soft loops of all her writing.

"Um, Lucy, come here." Stiles was staring at something in a drawer.

"Don't tell me you found a dead rat and are too big of a baby to move it," she teased. He didn't respond. That tipped her off that it was bad.

"Stiles?"

He simply pointed downwards. "What, it can't be that- oh."

Lucy giggled.

"Why is that funny?" ordered Stiles. His disgruntled face bordered on worried. The sword was nestled in a black leather sheath, which he gingerly lifted and set on the top of the cabinet. "That's a weapon. A real one. Like you could very easily kill someone with it. Hell, _Mason_ could kill someone with that."

Lucy shook her head, still smiling. "My mom was a historian with a PhD in Medieval History, Stiles, and a focus in military strategy and weaponry."

"That's a Japanese sword. A _katana_. Like Kira's," he argued, scrutinizing the sword. Lucy could basically see the wheels in his head turning, watched as he realized that the sword wasn't identical to Kira's katana.

"No, it's a _shinobigatana_ , a _ninjato_. See the blade, it's-"

"Straight. Yeah, I see it now." The shadow must have shifted in the room because Stiles' face seemed to get darker. "Still doesn't explain why it's in your attic."

"Her last field of interest was Feudal Japan," shrugged Lucy, "She probably got it from a private collector that sold it to her for cheap or owed her a favour or something. She liked keeping a private store up here that she could take to the museum with her. Even after we moved to San Francisco she would drive back here every few weekends to study stuff."

"Your mom studied samurai?" he asked, duly impressed. Lucy snorted.

"My mom studied anyone who carried a weapon or drew battle plans from Odysseus to Al Capone.

"And we're wondering why you're a supernatural creature who can sense danger, why?"

"No idea." Lucy drifted off to the side and started opening drawers. Stiles closed his drawer but left the sword out. Lucy just found more papers.

"Did your mom— did she ever go into Japanese mythology?" Stiles looked casual, leaning against the cabinet, but Lucy saw the tension in his fingers and the cold light in his eyes. The shadows in the room must have shifted again because he looked equal parts dangerous and scared.

"Don't know," said Lucy, "Wasn't allowed up here and it was her pet project. She never told anyone about them."

"Huh." Whether he realized it or not, his shoulders slumped. She didn't know if it was from defeat or relief. His gaze fixated back onto the sword.

Lucy turned away from whatever weird moment Stiles was having. Stiles was Stiles, and Stiles was weird.

Lucy turned her attention back to what she'd been doing before. She sorted through more stacks of paper and archaic knickknacks and a chess set she was sure probably dated back to a Russian Empress (she had no idea how her mother acquired this crap). She had gone through two baskets, a pithos, and a trunk before she got pissed off at the lack of _anything._

Lucy slammed her foot into the trunk and it shot five feet backwards, knocking over an ugly brass lamp and sliding into the wall with a solid _thump_.

That felt _so_ good.

Lucy reached around for the nearest object— a steel globe— and threw it at the nearest wall. It bounced off with a resounding plunk and a dented side that only made Lucy's need to destroy grow.

 _Stupid Scott and his stupid, wolf-y bullshit._

She swiped a stack of papers to the floor with deadly strength, a flurry of paper surrounding her. The Romanov chess set clattered to the worn wood with them, pieces scattering in the hurricane of limp forms and smudged black ink.

 _Stupid parents and stupid secrets and their stupid deaths._

She punched at an old mirror just the way her father taught her, knuckles square and thumb securely on the outside. The warped glass smashed but didn't shatter, spidering like a crack in a windshield.

 _Stupid Kate and her stupid taunts and her stupid cat eyes staring at Lucy from her nightmares dead, dead, dead._

She kicked out again, this time her foot connecting with the back of an old, teak chair that flipped forward. Lucy stomped down and the back splintered off.

 _Stupid genetics and unknown origins and their dumb powers. She didn't want this._

Lucy turned to hit something else— hit, smash, destroy this room full of beautiful, breakable things— but something smacked her on the side of the face. She snatched it out of the air before it hit the ground. It was one of the chess pieces; a black, elaborately embellished carving of a horse. A knight.

"Why would you think that was a good idea, Stiles?" She huffed, hand gripped tightly around the knight.

"I didn't. I just didn't feel like dying while trying to get your attention." Stiles surveyed the damage her tantrum had caused. "Feel better?"

"I'd feel better if I knew what the hell this stupid virago thing was supposed to be!" snapped Lucy.

That cloud had descended over her again— not the numb, white fog but the black smog of anger that burned in her chest and tore at her mind. It was receding now but it left a trail of desperation in its wake that made Lucy want to curl up in a ball. What was _wrong_ with her?

She wilted to the floor, cradling a hand that should have been broken and bloody, but that only faintly tingled. She was leaning against the overturned trunk, the one stuffed so full of carefully packed granite statuettes that it shouldn't have been able to move at all. She idly wondered if she had broken any. Then she hoped she had.

Lucy felt like she had that day in the bathroom, lost and hollow and scared. She wished she had brought Mason and Liam with her. Their dumb jokes and awkward warmth made her feel not quite normal, but like she fit. Like they were the weights that balanced out her particular brand of weird with their own. The werewolf, the virago, and the guy who wished he was both.

A shoulder pressed into hers, not quite muscular but not quite bony. Stiles was holding the ninjato again, probably scared she was going to freak out on him.

"I don't want to hurt anyone again," she whispered, a confession. She ran a thumb over the knight, the detailing sharp against her fingerprint. Stiles didn't answer. His fingers played against the sword sheath.

"We thought I was crazy for a while, too, you know," Stile finally said. "Frontotemporal dementia, same thing my mom had."

Lucy closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the trunk. "This isn't a group therapy session, Stiles. Talking about your problems never actually makes them better."

"Shut up and listen, you little twerp. I just threw a chess piece at your head while you had a psychotic break, okay. We're bonding whether you like it or not." Stiles spit the words out like the idea of bonding with her physically pained him. Lucy huffed. It pained her a little too.

"I thought there was no cure for frontotemporal dementia?" Lucy thought of Stiles' mom and her loud laugh. She had been a nice lady. Lucy's mom had cried for days when they got the news of Mrs. Stilinski's death.

"There isn't," said Stiles, picking at the sword's handle, "I never had it, it was just part of this giant trick to make me feel like I was losing my mind. And it worked," he mumbled. Lucy was struck with the realization that for all the stories that Scott had tried to tell her, there was still more missing.

"Look, Lucy, the point is, I get what it's like to not be in control of yourself, okay? Insomnia, nightmares? I get it. And worse, those moments where you're completely yourself and then suddenly you have nothing, like you're trapped on the other side of the glass, playing a game of Go where you're three moves behind your opponent and still think you're playing chess."

Lucy didn't know what Stiles meant by Go or chess or whatever, but she did know that this felt an awful lot like pity. "Talk to me when you've killed three people, Stiles." The self-disgusted remark slipped out before Lucy realized what it sounded like. Killing those men had never haunted her the way Kate was. That had been survival. What ate at her most was not being able to save her parents or Marley.

Stiles laughed, a sharp bitter sound that pulled Lucy out of her self-pity.

"Like I said, Luce, I understand a lot more than you think." Something in the way he said it made Lucy believe him, despite the confusion.

It was funny. Lucy always knew her and Stiles were similar. It made her skin crawl, but it was why they picked at each other so much. He didn't elaborate and Lucy didn't push him. Stiles was almost as good at deflecting as she was. If he didn't want to tell her, then she wasn't going to ask him. Probably.

Stiles eyebrows pulled down until his eyes were pits and his lips pursed together until they disappeared. "Coming back from something you have no control over is worse than if you meant to do it, Lu. We just need to figure out your anchor, your purpose or whatever, because it's clearly not just protecting. Unless that trunk was about to attack me, then great job."

"Here I was thinking you were human until you blindsided me with the sarcasm," retorted Lucy. Stiles went very still.

"I am human. That's the worst part. Because that thing that made me think I was crazy? I can feel it, clinging to me like a shadow, telling me to burn it all down and be the one in control for once." He stopped to shake his head, to breathe deep. The shadows were playing against his face again and Lucy thought maybe he wasn't too far off on the clinging theory.

He cleared his throat. "We won't let you hurt anyone else. Besides, you heard Deaton. You're a protector."

"I chucked a knife at your head like half an hour ago," Lucy snorted.

"You missed," he reminded her.

"You ducked," she corrected him.

"All hail my entirely not supernatural reflexes," he smirked. Lucy laughed but it sounded more like she was choking on a sniffle. "Kid, we all have pieces of light and dark inside of us. It's our choices that show who we really are."

Lucy punched him lightly. "You stole that from Harry Potter, you idiot."

"I needed to see if you'd get it," he looked hardly impressed by the hit but still rubbed his arm. "Scott never gets my references, and Malia spent, like, her childhood as a coyote. Only Lydia understands and she always rolls her eyes at me."

"I'm here now, so please refrain from terrible references," groaned Lucy.

"For good?" asked Stiles. "Because I need to know how attached Scott is going to get to having you around. The guy gets attached to stray animals at the clinic, he doesn't need you leaving him and Melissa too."

"Indefinitely," she compromised. "I mean, we have a really good morning routine going on, especially when Melissa works early shifts. I would hate to wreck that. And I guess Liam and Mason are growing on me. And since you're here, I'm stuck with you too, so yeah. I'm not going anywhere. Indefinitely."

"Indefinitely." He repeated before standing, "I'm done with this. Let's go get pizza and organize this for another day. We'll call in the troops."

"Fine," agreed Lucy.

"We'll figure it out, Luce," Stiles promised, "We always figure it out."

* * *

 **Ahhh, yes. Finally some Lucy and Stiles one-on-one time. I love making these two interact because they're so aggressively sarcastic towards each other but at the same time they still look out for one another. Scott's the sweet, caring older brother. Stiles is the annoying, overprotective brother.**

 **Lucy has a lot of issues right now, and figuring out what her parents were hiding from her is top of the list. I really hope no one is able to see it coming.**

 **Keep your eyes peeled for Part 2. Trust me, things are about to get real.**


	9. Chapter 9: Heirlooms, PART 2

**This is a direct continuation of Heirlooms, Part 1 because the chapter was way too long and I thought it would be nicer to break it up.**

 **Part 1 was all angst and emotions. Part 2 is a little more exciting.**

* * *

Stiles helped Lucy sort out the stuff she knocked over and pick up the papers she scattered around the attic. It didn't take long. Lucy realized she was starving and needed pizza more than anything in the world.

"Holy shit, is that your room?" Stiles eyes caught on the ajar door and he bolted down the rest of the stairs.

"No! Get out!" yelled Lucy, chasing after him. Stiles didn't slow, crashing through the door and only stopping once he reached the middle of the room.

"Wow, I almost forgot you used to be a smaller pain in the ass," whispered Stiles, looking around at the dragonfly comforter and stuffed animal collection.

"Please get out, Stiles," pleaded Lucy. A few boxes were stacked in here, but most of it was stuff that Lucy had outgrown. The last time she slept in this room, she'd been 10 years old. It felt longer than five years ago.

"No way, this is a treasure trove," Stiles picked up a stuffed bunny that rested on the edge of the bed. Lucy snatched it away from him. "Don't touch my stuff."

Stiles raised his hands over his head in defeat. His eyes studied the room wildly, like he was trying to commit as much as possible to memory before she kicked him out. He complained as Lucy pushed him backwards towards the door until he froze and became a little harder to push.

"Stiles, seriously, get-"

"Do you see that?"

Lucy stared at him, baffled. All she wanted was for him to get out. Stiles reached for her neck, and she batted back his hand and stepped away. "What. Are. You. Doing?"

"Your necklace matches the wardrobe." Stiles eyes flickered past her to the old wardrobe against the wall. Lucy's hand flew up to grab the charm. She hadn't realized it had come free.

"What?" She asked, blinking in surprise.

Stiles reached for the necklace again, and Lucy jerked away. "Can I just-ugh," Stiles grumbled at her. "Please, can I have the necklace?"

"No," said Lucy, "just show me."

Stiles marched around her, grumbling more, and pointed to the top carving on the wardrobe. It did look like the key; three interconnected, flourishing loops that almost looked like a club suit in a deck of cards.

"It matches the top of the key. And-here- I bet," Stiles fumbled with the carving until the center piece popped up. There was a keyhole, just the size of her necklace.

"And today just got even weirder," Stiles commented, shaking his head. "I should call Lydia. She's good at finding things, usually bodies, so fingers crossed."

Lucy slipped the necklace over her head hesitantly. She slid the key into the hole and, after meeting Stiles' eyes skeptically, she twisted. The key turned and something clicked twice and locked into place. Scraping noise echoed behind the wardrobe. Nothing else moved.

"Huh," Stiles squinted at the wardrobe and licked his lips, "That was anti-climactic."

"Did you hear that?" Lucy looked around the edges of the wardrobe. "It sounded like it came from-"

"Inside the wardrobe, yeah." Stiles reached for the doors and swung them open. Lucy beat him to it, reaching into the wardrobe and waving her hand around. Nothing met her fingertips. She leaned backwards out of it.

"There's… nothing there?"

"What, not even a lamppost," muttered Stiles as he climbed into the wardrobe. "Damn."

"What?" Lucy pushed in behind him.

"Stairs. Why are there stairs? Is this thing attached to the wall? We need a flashlight," Stiles fumbled in his pocket for his phone. Lucy pulled out the flashlight from her back pocket, flicked it on, and handed it to him.

"You go first," she suggested.

"It's your house," he responded, shaking his head.

"You have more experience with this."

"You're a supernatural creature."

"You're older." Lucy gave his shoulder a little shove. Stiles jolted forward.

"Well, I can't argue with that," he muttered and focused the flashlight on the stairs.

Slowly they descended, avoiding cobwebs and creaky steps. There were railings on either side of the steep staircase that creaked as much as the stairs. They were so coated in dust that they felt fuzzy under Lucy's palm. She released it immediately and rubbed her hand against her jeans.

"What the hell is your family?" Stiles batted at a barely visible dust mote, making the flashlight beam bob wildly.

Lucy grit her teeth. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

They reached the bottom and Stiles started waving his arms around gracelessly.

"What are you doing?" The exasperation slid into Lucy's voice. She felt around the middle of one of the pillars that guarded the bottom of the staircase.

"I'm trying to find a light," Stiles responded briskly. "This is a mysterious cellar; mysterious cellars have lights that turn on when you pull a string hanging from the ceiling. Amateur."

Lucy found what she was looking for and flicked a switch. A row of studio lighting illuminated the room.

"Huh," Stiles glanced around, "there's even a switch at the top of the stairs."

Lucy didn't answer. She was too busy staring around the room and taking in all the _lies_ her parent had told her. "My whole life is a lie."

"That- that might be a bit dramatic." He didn't sound very sure, also staring around the underground room. The walls were lined with pull-down metal cages and glass cases. A table sat in the center of the room and a few targets sat in one corner. All of it was lined in weapons.

Swords, scimitars, and spears. An assortment of bows and arrows, crossbows, scopes, and attachments. Things Lucy could only vaguely recognize from history textbooks, but modernized. There were a few guns, mostly high-caliber and long-range. But, more importantly were the books. Where there wasn't a weapons cage there was a bookshelf or a filing cabinet or more of the elaborate system of boxes and letter-holders used in the attic. Everything was overflowing with yellow-paged books, leather-bound journals, and crumpled papers. Maps were strung haphazardly from the ceiling and between shelves and support pillars, the surface dotted with handwritten notes, pins, string, and Post-It-notes.

"This can't be legal." Stiles reached towards one of the weapons cages before recoiling his hand. The look on his face said he very much wanted to touch everything.

Lucy stared at the weapons. The table in the center of the room has an assortment of maintenance supplies and drawers like a jewelry store. It was orderly and utilitarian. The whole cellar felt like a place to plan a war or wait out the apocalypse before emerging with a big-ass gun to kill the zombies.

"Your dad had one hell of a stockpile." Stiles was staring at a particularly flashy gun. Lucy's eyes narrowed. This didn't make sense.

"That is not my dad's," she set a hand on the cage it was in. "That's a Desert Eagle, he always carried a Glock 23. FBI standard issue*. My dad didn't like guns." Lucy's dad had only carried one because it would save his life, not because he thought it was the best course of action. He had a motto that if you ever needed a gun in fieldwork, then you hadn't solved the case well enough back in the office.

Lucy stepped closer to the map beside the gun cage. The writing on it was spidery and sharp. It reminded her of her mom's signature. But her mom had loopy, soft writing, carefully drawn. It had always struck Lucy as odd that her signature, in contrast, looked like it had been carved into stone. This writing, spiky and slanted, was a dead match to her mother's signature.

"Stiles, those are my mom's notes." Lucy traced a finger across one section of notes referring to a ' _white oak copse?_ ' before following the arrow that pointed to something else. "And look at all these weapons. They're old."

Stiles was studying a different map, fingers catching a red string that connected two maps with red circles drawn on them. "That's the Preserve lands that back onto the old Hale Property. Why would your mom be interested in that?"

Lucy shook her head. Nothing made sense here. There was a whole other room under her house, under her _bedroom_. Her mom was a historian, and Beacon Hills had no history. That had been part of why they had moved to San Francisco. Right?

She opened a drawer and pulled out the nearest objects. It was set of brass knuckles with a hammered metal design, worn and clearly used. They were small, too small for a man. Lucy slipped one of them onto her right hand. The metal tingled as it settled into place.

"Whoa," Stiles breathed as he snooped through a different drawer. "Shit. Luce?"

"What?" Lucy slipped the brass knuckles off her hand and into her pocket. Something told her those would be good to keep close.

Stiles held up a wooden box with symbols on the sides. "Any chance your mom was overly interested in the Hale family?"

Lucy scrunched up her nose. "No. Why?"

"Wolfsbane bullets. I've only seen these…" He trailed off looking vaguely uncomfortable.

"Only see these?" prompted Lucy. Stiles grimaced.

"Kate Argent. It's a nasty wolfsbane, almost gave me a lifetime of nightmares when I almost had to saw off Derek's arm." He shuddered and opened the box. As he looked at the bullets, his frown deepened. "There are some missing."

"So?" Lucy started to open other drawers, seeing collections of lock-picking tools, elegant knives, other unidentifiable tools. She wondered if she could use the lock-picking tools to open the firearm cages or if her magic necklace would do the trick.

"Lucy." Stiles waited until she made direct eye contact before continuing, speaking deliberately. "You have a hidden bunker with more weapons than the Sherriff's Department and maps of magical woodlands. There are crossbows and wolfsbane bullets. In my experience, and trust me, I have a lot of experience around almost dying, and that— that is hunter gear. And it's been used."

Lucy shook her head and slammed the myriad of drawers closed. The knives clattered together. "My mom was not a werewolf hunter, Stiles. No way. Not possible."

"Oh, come on, Lucy. Look around! Denial is not an option right now. Your parents were keeping things from you." Stiles grabbed her shoulders, holding her in place. Lucy shook her head, her throat burning as she pushed back tears.

"It's not possi-" Lucy closed her eyes and stopped. Because it was possible. It made sense.

Her mom's constant trips back to Beacon after they moved. The constant lies and weapons everywhere. The side projects and weeks when it seemed like she didn't even work at the museum. All the equipment you could ever need to overthrow an authoritarian regime. Why she had never met her mom's family.

And something had been bothering her, something she remembered Kate saying before she threatened Lucy in that abandoned warehouse. Kate had known her father's eyes were green and said that her mom was tough. Lucy couldn't match the shimmering image of her mom's warm smiles and shining, dark eyes with Kate probably considered tough.

Kate had known her parents and Lucy wanted to know how. This room full of maps and magic meant something, something that meant maybe her parents knew something they shouldn't and that's what got them killed. It also meant that maybe it was Lucy's fault that they were dead after all.

Lucy's breath caught in her chest and she struggled to drag in air through her nose. Stiles grip on her shoulders softened."Hey- hey. Luce. We'll figure it out, okay?"

Lucy let out the breath, eyes still closed.

Stiles slid the box of bullets back into the drawer. "I think my dad should have another look at your parents' casefile."

* * *

 **BONUS**

Melissa tried not to smile too much when she told Lucy that Mason and Liam (but mostly Liam) had left twelve messages and fifteen missed calls on the machine. Lucy sighed and cursed her new friends before going straight for the house phone. She was smiling, tight-lipped and sarcastic, but she was smiling and Melissa knew that this was good for her.

Melissa also pretended not to see Scott's cautious smile or the protective frown that crossed Stiles' face when she mentioned Liam.

Honestly, Stiles and Lucy were too much alike in the worst ways. They'd stormed in from the jeep with almost identical scowls and grumbling for food. They both hated mushrooms on their pizza. They both would go out of their way to prove the other wrong.

Melissa sighed. Claudia and Diana used to joke that Stiles and Lucy were actually siblings, that this is what happened when you slept with each other's husbands and had no idea who the father was for either of them.

She sighed again. Her and Claudia and Diana hadn't been the closest of friends, but they had an understanding between them. They were all wives of law enforcement officers, and Stiles and Scott had been attached at the hip. Spending this much time around their kids made her miss her old friends. It also made her realize how much she was in over her head trying to raise two supernatural teens and Stiles, all three of them with enough trauma to scare a military psychologist.

But then Scott laughed and Lucy threw a mushroom at Stiles, who threw three back at her and one at Scott for laughing. Maybe she had more kids than she'd originally thought, but these three were a packaged set at this point. Melissa would take care of them, just like she promised Claudia. Just like she promised Diana without realizing why she was promising it.

* * *

 **BONUS BONUS**

Stiles had made an effort to keep an eye on Lucy since she first showed up in Beacon Hills. He knew her GPA (ridiculously high), her favourite teacher (Coach, somehow), and he knew that she put little effort into making friends (even tried to avoid it). He'd known all along that there was something going on with her angry ass and— oh, look— he'd been right.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched her pick the mushrooms off her pizza. She had a pile on the side of her pate, same as him. Eventually Scott would learn to just order the pizza without mushrooms.

Okay, so maybe Stiles hadn't known the extent to which he'd been right, but he was still right. It counted. And now he was just worried about her because, like it or not, they'd been stuck together for most of their lives thanks to Scott.

He'd almost told her earlier, back in the attic. He'd almost told her exactly how much he understood her pain; how much he understood the darkness and loss of control. How he knew what it was like to have blood on his hands, to be responsible for the chaos caused by something _inside_ of him. How it sucked that he and Lucy were similar in this way too. Killers who had no control over their actions; her by instinct, him by possession.

There was so much he had to stop from spilling out. The constant fear and disorientation of coming back from wherever the human part of him had been trapped. The way that all his friends had looked at him, like they didn't trust him. Like they didn't _recognize_ him, or worse, like they couldn't tell him apart from the nogistune. Even Scott had been afraid of him. And he hadn't been able to handle it. He hadn't been able to handle fallout and it had been literally killing him.

He'd almost told her his worst fear, that he could still feel it inside him sometimes, the nogistune. That he could stare at all the options and be tempted to play a trick, cause some chaos, steal back the power. Kill his friends. That some still-evil part of him would do anything to get that back. Not like some little piece of the nogistune was still a part of him, no, it was more like it is him. Or like he was it.

He'd almost told her but he hadn't, because those were memories he tried very hard to forget. Guilt he tried very hard to swallow.

Lucy was turning out to be more of a mystery than he planned but the good thing was she was clueless too. The other good thing was that Lucy was a distrustful little beast, and she would probably side with Scott over anyone else that claimed to be on her side.

The only bad thing was that she had chosen to trust Liam, of all people, and Stiles saw the way those two acted around each other. It wasn't something but it wasn't nothing, and Stiles didn't want to say it but he totally called it. Honestly, Scott should have listened to him and kept those two apart. Now they were going to have another case of destructive puppy love on their hands and he really wanted Lydia to stop shipping it and staring at the two of them with her matchmaker face. It was trouble and he knew it, and they were all going to regret this.

Then again, that was the motto of their lives. So Stiles was content to eat his mushroom-less pizza and solve Lucy's mystery, one creepy basement at time.

* * *

 *** The FBI actually recently changed they're standard issue to a new 9mm gun for better control/accuracy, but that was in 2016. Since Teen Wolf, at this point, only takes place in 2012 the Glock 22 and 23 were still standard issue. And since Lucy's dad was an agent in the 90s to the 2000s then (since 1997) he most likely would have carried a Glock.**

 **And so we're getting down deeper into the mystery of Lucy's family. I'm so excited for this to keep going. It's what I built this whole story around (besides the darling Liam).**

 **The first bonus is because Melissa is my hero.**

 **The second bonus is because Stiles just has a lot of terrible thoughts sometimes, okay, and these are all some very traumatized kids. I tried to fit into the conversation with Lucy, but let's be real. Stiles would never confess all this to Scott, let alone Lucy. But he most definitely thinks about it all the time.**

 **The next couple chapters should be just kind of fun bonding moments between particular characters, particularly Liam and Lucy (and Mason) and the girls, especially Lydia. I think her and Lydia would naturally feel a kinship of some sort. Plus Lydia is a natural matchmaker and a total role model so. Yeah.**


End file.
